Star Wars: Aberrant Cause
by LeGrande Grover
Summary: An Imperial R&D technician steals a prototype fighter and escapes a top secret facility. A young slave girl grapples with her growing connection with the Force, yet seeks to find path that is neither light, nor dark. Both are fugitives; from Empire and New Republic and Jedi and Sith alike.
1. Prologue

Prologue

In open space near the Bimmisaari system, the _Venator-class _Star Destroyer _Affluent _was drifting amidst the rest of her pirate fleet. The once-virulent warship was venting atmosphere and internal explosions still lit its languid hulk against the blackness of space. Another member of her fleet, an old _Dreadnaught-_class cruiser unceremoniously collided with the larger ship, then slowly toppled end-over-end on course away from the _Affluent._ Scattered fighters still raced around the ship like flies around a corpse. Every able crew member struggled to restore power or seal breaches in the hull. Debris sprawled into space like flecks of sand swept along a current.

It was chaos.

Amidst the chaos, a small black fighter slipped from the hangar of the Star Destroyer, inconspicuously weaving through the harried fleet. None of the other ships seemed to notice. The black ship casually put some distance between itself and the remnants of the fleet, the disappeared into hyperspace.

Sometime later, the same black ship came out of hyperspace in the Nespis system and quickly disappeared among the asteroids. At the helm of the _Peripheral Muse _was Costain 'Saz' Proulx, a former Imperial Research and Development technician separated from the Empire he had once admired, now a freelance smuggler and bounty hunter, or otherwise jack-of-all-trades. In the storage module of the prototype fighter was an unconscious figure, thrown loosely into an environmental suit and kept alive by forced air and radiant heaters. It had been an effort of over a year, with many trials and tribulations that had tested the skill and resolve of the man, not to mention the design specifications of his beloved craft.

It was still hard to believe that there was so much attention centered on a single young woman.

"Technician," said a mechanical voice, sourced from the ship itself, "are you certain this is the correct organic? I had expected something substantially more exotic for a Jedi."

Saz was broken from a robotic daze and glanced around the instruments, tipping his hat up from his brow. There were no other ships within range and the _Muse_ was safely in the asteroid belt, so he felt inclined to answer the invisible speaker. "I don't know, N4, she seems pretty exotic to me. Besides, the Jedi were wiped out decades ago. How would you even know what to expect?" he replied, glancing out to the endless mob of dancing planetoids around them.

There was a short silence. "Technician, I have access to much of the station's databanks concerning any number of subjects, including historical data on the Jedi before Order 66. Considering how little resistance was offered when we acquired her, I find it difficult to classify her as a Jedi," the voice responded.

Saz smirked a bit and pulled his hat back down, settling deeply into the pilot's seat. There was an abundance of folklore on how formidable a Jedi could be, yet the timid Twi'lek did nothing but try to run away, stopped by a mere stun grenade. She did not even have a lightsaber. It was any wonder it had taken him so long to actually find her when the capture was over in a matter of minutes.

It was somewhat disappointing.

"I can't argue with that, but I've looked over her data hundreds of times. It's definitely her. It does make me wonder why Utility, and everyone else for that matter, is so interested in getting their hands on her," the human remarked.

"Technician, is that why you are returning to the Shed instead of the designated rendezvous location? Is it why you have not contacted Utility?" the voice asked.

"Nah, I thought she might help clean the place up a bit. You know, do some dusting, and maybe mop the floors," he joked.

The voice was silent yet again and the black ship made a few course corrections to avoid some errant asteroids wandering chaotically through the field. It was obvious the source of the voice was straining to understand what he meant, which brought an amused sneer to the man's face.

"Technician, I sometimes fail to understand the humor of you organics," the voice said flatly.

"You're a ship, N4, not a protocol droid. You don't have to understand it, though it wouldn't kill you to humor me sometimes by chuckling or something," said the man with a sigh.

While the idle conversation continued, the ship dipped around a large, pock-marked asteroid and came into view of what remained of a space station, with parts of it built into an asteroid and parts of it scattered into the space beyond. Something had attacked the base and tore it to pieces. There was only a small hangar that had been largely left intact on the southern hemisphere of the broken body, which was the home base for Saz and his ship.

The black ship headed towards the hangar and the voice resonated in the ship once more, "Technician, we are 3.7 standard minutes from docking procedures at the Shed. Asteroid drift variance is at .5%, power output of the main reactor remains steady at 41% and all environmental systems are within normal constraints."

"Thanks, N4. Initiate landing procedures and revert to manual flight control," Saz replied and sat upright, pushing his hat back and concentrating on the hangar.

Feeling the vibration of the ship through his hands refreshed him. The fighter was swift and powerful, the paragon of Imperial technology. There were so few of them built that they were all still referred to as prototypes, with the Emperor personally ordering them into protective storage to keep the technology out of the hands of his enemies. That fact seemed moot since the death of the Emperor a few years earlier, but the small number produced, not to mention the fact that Saz had made many personal modifications insured that there was no other ship like the _Peripheral Muse_.

It was his ship, along with his knowledge of Imperial research and development, which made him highly sought after by both the feuding warlords of the broken Empire and the New Republic that had grown in its wake. It was ironic to him that he had been tasked with hunting down an equally sought-after mark in the rogue Force-adept, Aveyla Rom.

The _Peripheral Muse_ landed in the hangar. A heavy, rusted door creaked closed behind it and a rush of breathable environment began to whisper into the area. Everything was a dull brown color, with streaks of opaque white that provided glimpses into the facility's lost past. Most doors were welded shut and there was only one window that faced out to the mundane spread of planetoids. It was a dreary place, but had everything essential for life. A reactor in a nearby utility area provided power for the heaters, lights and air circulation systems. A system of heaters and purifiers leeched water deposits from the fragmented asteroid. There were a few livable compartments suited for life's carnal requirements and a hangar spacious enough to accommodate the ship.

It was not much, but it was a home.

Saz landed roughly on the hard floor as he exited his ship and took a deep breath of the stale air. Judging by the way the air stung his nose, it was obvious to him that he needed to check on the filtration systems again. However, all normal considerations were put on hold as he glanced up to the storage modules on the ship, in it his prize.

It only took a moment for him to move the stepladder over to the ship. As he ascended each step, he half-expected the pod burst open with an angry Jedi, flinging lightning from her fingers and tearing the hangar down around them. "_Or is that a Sith?" _he thought to himself as his hand reached down to his sidearm. Both were like mystical creatures to the galaxy, so he did not know what to expect. Drawing the blaster, he crested the stepladder and stared at the pod, a welling of apprehension rising in his stomach. Her capture had been remarkably simple and that made him uneasy. Nothing was ever easy.

Unlocking the pod, the lid lifted to reveal a lump of protective clothing, still plugged in to the support systems. The suit was so large, comparative to the figure inside, that it was difficult to tell if she were still in there, or if she were merely waiting for the right time to strike. Saz craned his neck to the side and reached out with his blaster, using the barrel to prod the lump. Nothing happened. A bead of sweat raced down his neck and he leaned further over the pod, trying to get a glimpse inside the helmet to see the occupant's face. Not even peeking in the suit was easy.

When he finally looked into the helmet's contents, he found the Twi'lek face still serene, under the effects of the sedatives he had given her. A breath of relief escaped his lips and he stabilized himself on the stepladder, shoving his blaster back in its holster and rubbing the sweat from his neck. "Did I even get the right person?" he asked himself quietly, as if to echo the sentiments of his mechanical companion.

Dismissing any questions as moot, he disconnected the suit from the interface and slid his arms under the figure, lifting her out and once again remarking to himself how light she was. Moving down the steps, he moved into one of the adjacent areas and laid her on a makeshift bed. He removed the environmental suit and once again laid his eyes on her, still disturbed at her beauty.

Her skin was pale lavender and she had very striking features. Even for a Twi'lek, renowned for their beauty, she seemed exotically beautiful. The scant clothing she wore gave him afforded him a thorough examination of her, much to his arousal. As N4 had noted, she possessed no lightsaber, nor much of anything else. Looking past her relaxed face, he noticed scarring around her neck, indicative of slavery in her past. Her breasts were petite and well-shaped. Her hips here slender and her legs were long. Her lekku were also slender and shapely. It was obvious she was quite the prize to any owner that possessed her.

"Is she even a Jedi?" Saz remarked breathlessly, looking back to her face. While still asleep, her brow seemed furrowed, as if she were in a constant state of pain. Her expression fascinated him, in a wicked sort of way.

Suddenly, a voice broke out from an interface embedded in top of his wrist, startling him from his daze. "Technician, the ship has been successfully powered down and will be put on standby. When shall we proceed to the rendezvous point?" droned the voice of N4.

Saz tapped a button on the interface and stared back towards the hangar, his eyes a bit guilty. "Inventory remaining ordinance and assess any damage to the_ Muse_, N4. We won't be heading out just yet," he replied, then moved his eyes back to the woman lying before him.

"I'll bet she has an interesting story to tell."


	2. Chapter 1

I

Aveyla Rom was born on Ryloth to a poor family of fungus farmers trying to scrape a living from the underside of rocks. There was not much choice for Aveyla's father, who had six children and struggled to justify the land his family had lived on for generations. The price he could get for selling it would only feed his family for a week, and that was only if the Empire would allow it. While he was an honest man, he also wasted away watching his family struggle to survive. Her mother was a passionate woman and loved her children dearly, but she too watched as her children became skinny and their scrapes went untreated.

The situation led to back-breaking labor for their parents. The children, including Aveyla, were mostly oblivious to this, as children are prone to be. They spent their days playing the in the caves around the farm or performing random chores, unaware of the weight lying on their parents' backs.

One day, when Aveyla was eight years old, a man appeared on their farm and met with her father. He was far heavier than any other man she had seen before and his smile was brighter than the bleached bones of a rycrit they had once seen on a trip near the border of the Bright Lands. The children were fixated by his presence, for the family did not receive visitors very often and when they did, their father was usually holding a rifle. They clustered near the edge of the home and tried to hear the content of their conversation, but winds were drowning out anything they might have heard. Aveyla remembered her father looking very thin that day, his eyes dulled and his hands clawed into his pants. She did not remember seeing her mother at all.

Soon enough, her father called to the children and beckoned them to come over and meet the man, who had a very fancy name. Innocent and playful, the children were relentless and barraged the man with questions. He answered amidst deep laughter, the kind that made his stomach bounce up and down. His beady eyes were darting among the children and he appeared very gentle, running his chubby hand over their heads and playing with their lekku.

As one of the older children, Aveyla was at the front, smiling wildly and running his fine clothing between her fingers. It was like feeling water poured over her hand. Just as she was so interested in him, the man had also locked his gaze on the young girl, gazing at her lavender skin and bright face. When her father noticed this, his eyes fell away to the side and he seemed even smaller.

After more banter, the fat man walked back to his speeder and disappeared into the darkened cabin, with the door left open. Aveyla's father ordered the other children into the home, but kept Aveyla, his hand tightly wrapped around hers. His grip was slightly painful, but she noticed just how sickly he looked, so she did not protest.

The two stood silent for a while, staring at the house. Aveyla looked back and forth between her father and the speeder, then to the home that was strangely inactive. There was only an odd wailing sound that barely crept up over the wind and made the home seem like a dying animal. It scared Aveyla for a moment, but soon her father had pulled her around and was heading to the speeder. Once there, he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around her, crushing her small body against his. Even though she gasped a bit and told him of the pain, he did not let go and just shuddered there against her, silently weeping into her tiny shoulder.

Aveyla looked around, slightly panicked. It was such a strange day. She wondered where her mother was and invariably looked back to the home, but there was no sign of her.

Just when she began to truly panic, her father whispered to her in a weak, pathetic voice, "Please, forgive me."

The tone of his voice quelled her panic and she leaned her head against him, though her eyes were still glancing about wildly. An instant later, she was led into the speeder by her father and placed next to the fat man. His speeder smelled exotic, like spices. As soon as her father's hands left hers, they were filled with enough credits to feed the family for a year, though he did not covet this money as rationale would dictate.

The speeder door closed around Aveyla and the fat man gave her the same smile he had flashed since arriving, though his eyes seemed distinctly less gentle. The young girl reared up against the window as the speeder pulled away and Aveyla saw the last glimpse of her home and her father that she would ever have.

He was still standing there, his hand clenched around the money, his head fallen to his chest, unable to hear the cries of his daughter as she was taken away.

In the year 8 BBY, Aveyla Rom was sold into slavery by her father.

* * *

Abe'ian arrived at his manor with a screaming child in his speeder. After many years of procuring merchandise for Ryloth's lucrative slave market, he was used to screaming children. Whether they came from orphanages or from poor families, they came and they cried.

He was glad he was mostly deaf in his old age.

As the fat Twi'lek grunted and exited the vehicle, the young girl was still crying, curled in a ball in the seat of his speeder. The man turned and gestured to her to exit, but she did not respond. This was the most testing part of his occupation, but there were many ways to go about such a terrible business and he had tried each one. In is older years, he had become somewhat of a softer slaver.

"Enough!" he yelled, his bloated throat bobbing at the sudden exertion of sound. This silenced the child for a moment and her drenched eyes locked on him in terror. Abe'ian took a moment to regain his composure, amazed that even now he would lose his temper at something so natural as a frightened child. His demeanor relaxed and he renewed his gesture to her. "Come, child, into my home. It is now your home," he said calmly

Aveyla looked at the huge building in awe, not understanding what he meant. Her home was the farm they left behind, where her mother and father and siblings would be waiting for her. It was odd for an adult to not understand this, and her bright eyes fell back to him.

"But father is…" she began, but was sharply interrupted by Abe'ian.

"I am father!" he barked, making her squeak in surprise, "I am mother! I am grandfather. I am uncle. I am family. These are the first lessons you will learn."

Aveyla's world was spinning. She did not understand any of this at all. Her limited comprehension denied her truth, but another truth was rapidly coming onto her. A wonderful smell was coming from the home, and Aveyla was very hungry. The aroma made her stomach growl loudly and her small hands laid over it, her eyes guilty as she stared down.

There were few moments that made Abe'ian smile, but seeing her clutch her stomach brought one to his face. He saw many children whose family could not feed them. The world was a hard place, but he had made his place in it by utilizing those poor families and the children that went hungry.

The compassionate side of him enjoyed feeding those starving children.

"Come, child. You will be safe inside. Inside is home now, and you will not go hungry while you live in my home," he said gently, moving his hand once more towards the door.

Aveyla reluctantly looked between the man and the home, her hands dug into her belly. He did not seem like a bad man and she still held onto a faint hope that her father would come and get from this foreign place, taking her back to the familiar world she lived and the family she loved. Slowly, she slid out of the speeder and moved along his hand, walking next to him as they walked into the cavernous manor.

Abe'ian closed the door behind them and pulled his jacket off, handing it to a servant standing near the door. "I'm getting too old for this," he sighed, wiping his face with a cool towel handed to him by another servant. Aveyla was stuck behind him, looking about the home in awe at the splendor of it. There were sights and smells she had never seen before. Servants and slaves were busy moving about the place, cleaning or performing chores. It was like an entirely new world to her.

After cooling down, Abe'ian gestured to one of the servants and wafted the towel towards the source of the wonderful smell. "Go, take the child and feed her. Bathe her and get her clean clothing. Put her with the others and begin her training. I am going to take a nap," he ordered and the servants moved quickly to comply.

Aveyla was led to a large hall with many tables and presented with a plate of food, more food that she would have eaten in a day at home. While it was not anything special, it was hot and filling and it helped her forget the longing she had for home, if only for a little while. Afterwards, she was taken to a bathing area and washed, then given heavy clothes to wear. It was overwhelming at first, but she was soon led to another room where rows of beds were filled with other children and adults. The others were scattered about, talking or reading books and the entire atmosphere was unlike anything else Aveyla had seen. She was given a bed with three books next to it. One book was to teach Basic and the other was to teach Huttese. The third book was about general skills such as cooking and cleaning, but also songs and forms of dance around the galaxy. Aveyla had barely learned to read, so it was a lot to take in. She also noticed that only women were in the room, though she had seen male slaves in the home as well.

Sitting down on the soft bed, the child hugged one of the books to her chest and looked around, trying to process the world around her. She idly wondered if her father would ever come for her like she hoped, but more and more she understood that he would not. It was a painful realization for her.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

* * *

Over the next few years, Aveyla was transformed into an entirely new person. She was taught how to read and speak three different languages, how to perform basic functions of a home and a vast array of other things that were contained in the books around the manor. Abe'ian was known for being an unorthodox slaver, but he was also highly regarded and one of the few native Twi'leks that dealt directly with the Empire.

It was his training regimen that helped produce high-quality slaves, which led to his abundant wealth.

Aveyla was strangely oblivious to the fact she was a slave. A few factors clued her into this fact, such as an overly strict punishment when she did something wrong or failed to learn her lessons quickly enough. Another thing she noticed was other slaves she came to know would abruptly disappear, most often after Abe'ian would call all of them together for presentation to a prospective buyer. The constant shuffling of slaves made the young girl reluctant to befriend anyone, for she had her heart broken many times since being taken from her family.

In the absence of friends, Aveyla spent her time studying, not because she had allusions to being a wonderful servant but because it allowed her to remain distant from others, so she would not feel the inevitable pain of being torn away.

One person in the manor she did connect with was Abe'ian himself. Pleased with how she was growing into a beautiful young girl and diligently expanding her knowledge, the fat Twi'lek began to see her as his own kin, even against his own instincts. He often would call her into his study and ask her of the things she had read about, listening to her speak almost in a trance. He would also tell her about places beyond Ryloth and some of his exploits before he got too old and too fat to travel. She listened to these stories with equal enchantment.

After three years of living with Abe'ian, Aveyla was summoned to his study as always, though she found him with a grave look in his eyes. The young girl felt the same wave of anxiety in her as she had years before, when she left behind her family. Abe'ian appeared much as her father did that day, seeming small and defeated.

Abe'ian stared at the young girl for a long time, his figure not moving from the large chair in which he always sat. His eyes looked from her beautiful skin, her developing body and the book she still clutched to her chest, a vision of how he always remembered her. Beyond the light of the room, where shadows hid the depths of his chubby face, a tear had welled up in the corner of his eye, though it was lost in the creases of his sad face. Aveyla knew not to speak until she had been spoken to, but she was feeling very frightened at the lack of his usual demeanor.

Abruptly, Abe'ian waved over the young girl. She obeyed and approached him, kneeling at his feet as she had always been taught to do. The fat old man reached out and cradled her head, his hands soft and gentle to the touch. He then leaned forward and planted a single kiss to her forehead, something that made Aveyla very uncomfortable, if only for its incongruity.

Looking up, she found him looking at her with a sad smile. "I have sold you, my child. It is a day I have looked forward to and feared since you came into my home many years ago. Your new master has paid such a price for that I could retire to Coruscant," he said bluntly, watching the expressionless response. Aveyla had no practical comprehension of actually being sold as a slave, despite knowing it was the whole purpose of her being there. She had just never really thought about it before now.

"Yes, Master Abe'ian," she said, her standard response to him.

The old man leaned back in his chair, sighing loudly. It was incredible to him that even after all of the years he had been handling sentient merchandise, he could still become attached to them. He idly considered the retirement he had mentioned to her. "Your new master is Fennri Kenu, a Rodian of some repute. I have dealt with her many times and she knows the value of a good slave. As I always say, a merchant is only as good as his merchandise. She understands this, and should treat you well," he continued, looking down to his desk at the contract laid before him.

While he was lost in the details of the contract, Aveyla felt terror. She slowly understood that she would soon leave her home once more, given to another stranger and forced to serve their every whim. Her thoughts shot back to earlier in the day, when she was presented to prospective buyers just like they always were. She thought of the bullish Rodian woman that had scrutinized her for a long time, examining every inch of her and her own reflection in those large, black eyes.

Many had their eye on Aveyla when they came to Abe'ian's manor, but the old man had set her price so high that none could stomach paying that much for a single slave. It was Abe'ian's method of keeping her without actually accepting he had grown fond of her. Such a price was unheard of in the Ryloth slave markets, but for the Rodian woman, it was not an issue. She had paid on the spot and Aveyla now belonged to her.

With little preparation, Aveyla was told to go to the front of the manor and enter the waiting speeder. As she owned nothing, there was no reason to return to her bed. While it was natural for her to obey, she felt like her feet were weighted as she was led from the front door by another of Abe'ian's servants. Once led out to the speeder, the slave woman, whom she had seen many times in the manor, placed a warm hand on her shoulder and gave her a warm smile. Aveyla did not smile back. She looked up the window of Abe'ian's study, hoping to see him one last time looking down upon her. There was nothing in the window. With a repressed whimper, she entered the speeder and said goodbye to her home once more.

Fennri, the Rodian woman that was now Aveyla's new master, was not in the speeder. It was another Twi'lek, armed with two blasters and a wicked look in his eyes. In the back of the speeder were two Gamorreans that filled the cabin with a foul smell. All eyes were on the young girl, which sent shivers down her spine. None of the thugs spoke, but simply went about their business as the speeder sped off towards the spaceport.

Once at the spaceport, they speeder came to a stop in front of a ship, the _Skvat._ It was a _Starwind-_class ship and Fennri's personal yacht. While it looked old and was leaking some kind of liquid onto the deck, the two quad-laser cannon installations were kept in perfect order, a steep contrast to the rest of the ship. Aveyla was led from the speeder and up the loading ramp into the _Skvat._ Once inside, she was brought into a room with a single large chair, filled with a hulking Rodian woman. Aveyla instinctively knelt down and dropped her head, as she had always been taught by Abe'ian.

"How may I serve you, master," she said quietly, addressing her new owner.

Abruptly, the two Gamorrean guards reached out and began tearing her clothes from her body, much to her surprise. She could not help but cry and try and keep the plain clothing, the only thing she had left from her time with Abe'ian. A young Twi'lek girl stood little chance of overpowering two Gamorreans and soon she lay on the floor of the room, naked and staring up in terror at the Rodian woman.

The woman was staring down at the girl lustfully. It was obvious her new life would be nothing like living in Abe'ian's manor. "You speak Rodian," the woman barked in Basic, her husky voice echoing in the chamber.

Aveyla was trying to cover herself and shook her head, "No, master. I don't…"

Fennri's hand came crashing down on the arm of the chair, making a loud boom. Aveyla jumped, but the woman was ruthless. "No! You speak Rodian!" she barked again.

This time, Aveyla realized she was not asking her, but telling her. Rodian was not one of the languages she had learned and she frantically looked around between the thugs in the room and the large woman glaring at her. There were no books or datapads or anything else to facilitate the request. It was obvious she was going to have to learn it any way she could, with no option for failure.

Aveyla shuddered and pulled her legs closer to herself, simply nodding to the woman and dropping her eyes.

With Fennri appeased, she ordered something to the thugs and they took the naked Twi'lek girl out of the chamber and to a room that was nothing more than a prison cell. She was locked into the cell and given some rags that barely covered her body. As the ship rumbled and rolled around her, Aveyla hugged herself tightly, wanting more than anything than to return to Abe'ian. The reality of her enslavement was quickly becoming apparent and she did not even realize when the ship blasted away from her home planet, heading into the blackness of space.

Also unnoticed was the door to her cell mysterious trembling and distorting each time she whimpered to herself in the dark.


	3. Chapter 2

II

Costain Proulx stepped off the shuttle and into the Maw Installation for the first time months after the first Death Star was destroyed. The ripples felt through the Empire had presented him with a unique opportunity, to accept an assignment on the Empire's most secret installation for researching weapons and technology. Being a young technician with a heart beating for the Empire, it was a fantastic chance.

Born to a respected naval family on Anaxes, it was always expected of him to join the Navy as soon as he was able. His father, who had captained a warship during the Clone Wars, had done all he could to get his son into the academy with high standing, hoping the boy would become an officer and, one day in the future, command a starship as he had done. However, the younger Proulx did not have the same knack for command as his father, but rather excelled at tinkering with ships and reviewing design schematics. He was a pair of hands, always eager to dismantle a droid or reprogram a computer. His talents were recognized in the academy and he was commissioned as a technician, rather than an officer. It was not as prestigious as his father had hoped, but he received high honors at his graduation and an impressive station right from the beginning. It was enough to bring a smile to the old veteren's face.

During his days in the academy, he had picked up the nickname 'Saz' from his fellow students, due to a similar sound of an arc welder he was fond of using in the Academy garage. Liking the name so much, he kept it with him even after graduation and insisted on its usage on any assignment he received. Of course, he did not request it of officers, but most who worked with him just called him Saz.

Saz's ability to solve problems and his endless portfolio of creative ideas shuttled him along in the Imperial Navy, so much so that the Department of Naval Intelligence had taken interest in him. With the reeling loss of the first battle station around Yavin, wheels began to move to position the young man in a place where his ideas and talents would best serve the Empire. The requirements were simple. He would no longer be able to visit his family. He would have to pass rigorous testing and sign an entire pile of disclosure agreements. His existence would be classified and he would disappear from the galaxy. It was all so he could tinker with some of the most advanced technologies the Empire had to offer.

He signed the agreement without even telling his father.

Some weeks later, he found himself buried in heart of a realm of black holes and secrets the likes he could never imagine. The station was a collection of asteroids all linked together by access ways and guarded by a fleet of Star Destroyers. Not many in the Navy even knew it existed, but he was there. He would not be the scientist developing new superweapons or designing the latest starfighter, but he would be the one with his hands inside of them, feeling how they worked and putting the theories into practice. He was more satisfied that way. There was too much drama in the galaxy beyond a hydrospanner.

His first year in the Maw was a big change from his time at other installations. Security droids roamed the halls and did not ask twice when someone was in an area they were not given access to. His tasks ranged from maintenance on ships to diagnostics on things he had never seen before, of which their purpose was never revealed to him. He was smart enough to grasp the basics of anything he touched, but for his own safety did not engage any scientists in the finer workings of their project. He learned to keep his mouth shut and his hands in motion.

Demonstrating his skill at working on all forms of technology, Saz was soon given high levels of security clearance and access to some of the Empire's deepest secrets. Spending his free time pouring over files and schematics, he often found himself consciously steering away from some of the darker projects contained in the databanks of the station. He felt guilty some days for ignoring what the Empire was doing to the denizens of the galaxy, but he also felt displaced from it all, nestled far from the fangs of the rebellion or cries of suppressed worlds. It was easy to ignore the plights of the galaxy when working in a place no one knew existed.

The most rewarding aspect of his career was the ability to develop new forms of technology or refine ones that already existed. He was an accomplished chemist, fabricator and computer programmer, which allowed him to see some of the wonders, and terrors, the Empire developed in their dark, black purse. His passion for technology led him to discover some buried secrets in the databanks of the station, including a breadth of super weapons fathered by Wilhuff Tarkin and advanced designs for TIE-fighters. While only seeing a fraction of total technologies in the databanks, Saz was intoxicated by the brilliance of Imperial scientists. He always had to find more, digging deeper and deeper into the databanks.

One piece of technology that Saz was particularly interested in was a stygian-triprismatic polymer that could be used to reduce the sensor profile of ships or other vehicles, making them harder to detect. He had always been befuddled why military spacecraft were painted bright gray, making them stick out in the blackness of space. In his mind, coating a ship in this type of black polymer would greatly increase the lethality of the ship, though the high cost did make it prohibitive on most warships. Instead, he dreamed of coating a fighter, small and agile, so that it could disappear from an enemy's sight and strike out of the darkness. In his spare time, he was developing his own formula for the coating, along with a proposal to his superiors to test it on one of the many TIE fighters stationed as test craft in the Maw. One day, he dreamed, he would see such a ship fly, and it would grant him the prominence needed to use even more resources for his designs.

One of his other projects was something that would potentially get him into lots of trouble, should he be discovered. While working in droid maintenance, he was tasked with fixing a security droid designated MIME-SD-N4 that had been showing odd behavior and faulty design. After noticing some anomalies, Saz succumbed to his tinkering nature and began to experiment with the droid instead of correcting the anomalies. Personality subroutines were programmed and he began using the droid to store some of the restricted files he had found, not wanting to keep them in his security profile. Saz found that the security droid became somewhat of a friend to him. He was also using the droid to spy on the workings of the station and tap into classified transmissions from outside the Maw, in an effort to keep in touch with what was going on in the galaxy. He was one of the few people on the station to know how the rebellion was faring against the Empire.

One day, after a couple of years in Maw, Saz came across a piece of technology that made his mouth water. A fighter, which had been developed by Chiss Admiral Thrawn had been brought to the Maw for protective storage. The Emperor himself had ordered all prototypes to be kept safe, so the flow of technology would be kept from enemy hands. This order placed the technology into Saz's hands and he could not keep himself from witnessing it for himself.

Sneaking into a restricted hangar with help from his pocketed security droid, Saz found the craft in a protective garage, closed by security protocols and ten levels of encoded protection. It took Saz thirty minutes to get through them all.

When he did, the garage creaked open, revealing a lethal fighter that was the pinnacle of Imperial design. It was based on a successful line of Imperial assault shuttles and had two dedicated pods of missiles along the top, in addition to standard ordinance launchers. This feature gave the craft its namesake, the Imperial Missile Boat. Along with the incredible armament, the craft had prototype engines that allowed them to run at twice their capacity in short bursts, along with a tractor beam weapon and heavily reinforced shielding. The fighter was a warship in its own right and Saz spent hours scouring the ship, popping maintenance hatches and visually dissecting the cockpit.

He had fallen in love with a ship he would never get to fly. With nothing more than basic flying courses in the Academy, he was not sure he even could fly it, but due to its exclusive nature and advanced technology, the ship became the apex of his desires for putting his hands on the Empire's finest technology.

As fate would have it, however, it was not the only thing he fell in love with at the Maw.

During a normal test flight one day, a TIE fighter fitted with experiment navigation systems had experienced trouble and was struggling to make it back to the station. To minimize risk to the station and other craft, the fighter was ordered to land in a maintenance bay instead of the main hangars. Following orders, the disabled ship proceeded to the bay and attempted to land, though the malfunctioning computers made the approach difficult and a standard landing impossible. Crashing hard into the deck, the fighter was expertly handled by the pilot and made a landing that not just anyone could accomplish. The fighter slid into the back of the bay, a fire igniting from the sparks and fuel, and finally came to a stop just meters from where Saz had been working on a space probe. It was quite a shock to him.

Without thinking, he rushed over to the burning hulk and tried to disengage the hatch, coughing heavily as the toxic fumes began to fill the area. He could see the pilot struggling in the cockpit, but the damage had been substantial. He only had moments to free them from the ship, or they would be consumed along with it.

Grabbing a nearby pry bar, Saz wrenched on a spot known to be weak, forcing the hatch to pop open. With it broken, Saz pulled the pilot out and helped them away from the fiery debris. Leaving droids to suppress the fire, Saz and the pilot fell into a heap outside of the bay, Saz hacking from the fumes and rolling onto his back. The pilot was fairing much better, still wrapped tightly in a flight suit, but barely moved from the shock, sitting back against the bulkhead.

After a moment, Saz rolled a bit and looked at the pilot. "Hey buddy, you okay?" he heaved.

The pilot twitched a bit, then reached up to undo the flight mask. Upon removing the mask and hood, Saz set his eyes upon a beautiful young woman with tangled brown hair. It was even more shocking than the crash. "No worries," she responded, leaning her head back against the bulkhead and laughing in defiance of her close escape. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before and her smile was bedazzling. Having a moment to look at her, he could see a distinctly female figure in the flight suit and momentarily forgot how sick the fumes had made him. The vomit welling up in his throat and bursting out onto the deck brought him back to reality.

The pilot laughed, happy she did not have to share that feeling. Reaching out and patting him on the back, she helped him clear out the sickness, despite the sour smell it presented. She was simply happy to be alive. "You really saved me back there. What's your name, hand-spanner?" she asked as she rubbed his back.

"Saz," he responded, though it sounded more like a convulsion than anything.

The pilot laughed. "Well, I'm going to assume that's your name. Nice to meet you, Saz," she said, patting him a few more times. "The name's Alexis, and I hope you'll let a girl buy you a drink for saving her life," she said, smiling widely at him.

"Yeah, sure. Looking forward to it," he hacked, still writing on the deck in agony over the burning in his chest. She laughed even more.

That was the day he met Lieutenant Alexis Muse, the brave test pilot whom he fell deeply in love with and became the catalyst that would ultimately cause him to become a wanted fugitive from the Empire.


	4. Chapter 3

III

For Aveyla, the fundamental tenets of slavery were realized as a possession of Fennri Kenu. She was a piece of property, not valuated by her knowledge or beauty but because she was something to be owned. Any preconception she had living in Abe'ian's manor was destroyed on the decks of the _Skvat_ and when the ship docked at Fennri's port on Tatooine. Aveyla was a slave and she lived her life at every whim and desire of her new master.

Fennri Kenu was a successful spice-runner who dealt primarily with the Hutts. She was shrewd enough to remain independent, but still benefit from the vast network of crime commanded by the criminal group. Her cunning amassed her considerable wealth, enough to pay the hefty price tag demanded by Abe'ian for his prized merchandise. Fennri had determined at first sight she would buy the young girl, regardless of price.

All while developing into a young woman, Aveyla was owned by Fennri. As she was the Rodian's most valuable possession, she was never harmed in any physical way, as a measure to maintain how beautiful the young girl was. She was paraded in front of Fennri's rivals and dressed in fine linens that were in steep contrast to the clothing provided her while in her cell. Regularly, she would be forced to lie naked in Fennri's bed with her, the woman soaked with drink and running her rough hands over Aveyla's lithe body. She had a penchant for molesting the girl's lekku, which made her feel strange and ashamed. At all times, she was forced to revere the woman and never look away.

This life would further push her away from others. She would always obey her master, but she did not socialize with her other slaves, which made the others see her as acting superior to them. They furthered her isolation, yet the girl found solace in it.

Inside, she felt empty and alone.

During her years with Fennri, there was also uproar about strange occurrences in her palace and on her ship. Power converters would randomly explode and strange ground shakes put cracks in the building's foundation. The servants and slaves would whisper in the shadows about their master's favorite possession, but nothing was ever spoken aloud. Fennri was too enamored with the young girl to listen, and no one dared to incite her wrath.

About the time Aveyla's body began to show signs of changing into a woman, Fennri became more aggressive with the girl. Her encounters became explicitly more sensual and the girl fell further into despair. She did not know how to deal with these advances and the strange occurrences became stronger, once even causing a part of the palace to collapse. These tremors happened most viciously at night and threatened to tear the very palace down around them, something Aveyla began to wish for more fervently than ever.

Then a Hutt came.

Myutta the Hutt was a cousin of the late Jabba and a lieutenant in the crime family. He was also the sponsor of Fennri in her business dealings and occasionally came to receive homage from the Rodian. Unlike with other rivals or guests, Aveyla was always kept out of sight when a Hutt came to visit. This was because Fennri knew she could easily lose her prized possession to someone important to the syndicate.

When Myutta came this time, there was really only one reason why. He demanded to see the exotic slave Fennri had been hiding from him. Rumor of her beauty had permeated the network of criminals and pirates and when Myutta discovered that it was Fennri that possessed such a slave, he became furious and came straight to Tatooine to resolve the situation.

Fennri reluctantly called her slave out, dressed in a seductive outfit that revealed her budding breasts and shapely body. Myutta was visually appeased by her appearance and ordered her to dance, making Fennri's local musicians play a droning, sad tune that perfectly fit the girl's feelings.

It was the first time she was directly addressed in Huttese and Aveyla thought back to Abe'ian, her lips pursed in sadness. She could not cry, especially in front of a guest, so all she could do was dance, moving in seductive arcs and slow gestures that called out the emotion of the music. Myutta watched, entranced.

Fennri was as apprehensive as she had ever been.

"This is the rare jewel you have hidden from me, Fennri. Would you have denied me to the grave a chance to see this precious thing?" Myutta growled in Huttese at the woman, still unable to pry his eyes from the dancing slave.

"I thought her not worth your time, venerable Myutta," Fennri responded, groveling to him in her own palace.

Myutta laughed deeply, sliding his large eyes over to her. "Then you are as foolish as you are ugly. I have not seen such a slave since Jabba was alive," he responded, flicking his rank tongue out across his lips.

Fennri clenched her fist, but said nothing, instead looking back to the seductive movements of her precious slave. Myutta's interest in her was exactly why she was hidden away whenever he was around, and she regretting parading the girl in front of her rivals. In retrospect, she wished she had kept the girl permanently shackled in her chambers, kept secure in her sheets and ready at any moment to satisfy her master. The very thought made Fennri squirm in her chair.

After Myutta left, that was exactly what would happen.

"Take her to my ship," demanded Myutta, much to Fennri's horror.

"But…she is mine! Surely there are others…" she protested, but Myutta's sharp glance silenced her.

"Know your place, Rodian scum. Don't forget it is I that allows you to be here. Such a jewel is wasted on a boar like you. You have ten minutes to take her to my ship, or I'll bury you in your own palace," the Hutt roared.

Fennri was aghast. Her black eyes shot to the young girl, who was standing perfectly still in the wake of Myutta's rage. Her petite face was pressed down and her eyes were empty of the matter. She was so beautiful that Fennri contemplated defying the Hutt, despite the consequences of certain death. Her worst fear had come true, just when she had realized how much she desired the young girl.

Fennri relented and ordered Aveyla to be taken to Myutta's ship.

The Twi'lek was indifferent to what was going on around her. She walked without expression behind Myutta, a metal shackle kept around her neck. It bit and tore her soft skin, but felt distant to her. Who her owner was became irrelevant. There was little chance she would ever get to go back to Ryloth and she would always be enslaved by another master. These thoughts were darkness in her mind, but she showed nothing on the surface, even as she was led up the ramp to Myutta's ship.

As her new master sped her away from Tatooine, the cell of Aveyla's door deep within Fennri's palace lurched from its hinges and came crashing to the floor.


	5. Chapter 4

IV

For months, Saz and Alexis cultivated a relationship that could not exist in the Imperial Navy. She was an officer and he was an enlisted technician. It forced them to meet during odd hours and never be seen together in public, but their love grow despite the rules and regulations and there was not a moment that passed when they would steal sideward glances or slip off in the night to meet in a cargo bay. It was a passionate arrangement, with their few moments together an avalanche of their repressed hearts. The Maw was already an island in the galaxy, but the connection they forged defied the expectations placed upon them.

In a rare opportunity one day, Alexis had requested Saz accompany her as a technician on a shuttle testing some new sensor package developed on the station. She had even used a few favors to extend the time of the mission by a couple of hours, letting the couple disappear among the black holes and singularities that existed in the Maw.

Floating aimlessly in a dead patch of space, the shuttle was silent and displayed no marking lights or power. The only systems running were life support, which was no more than the two needed.

Lying together in the cabin of the shuttle, Saz and Alexis started out the window the endless black beyond, holding each other tightly and feeling the weight of each other's exhaustion. It was fulfilling to feel the touch of another's bare skin, especially in such a regimented environment. Hours could pass and neither of them would stir, or even think of returning to the station.

It was among the happiest of Saz's memories while in the Maw.

"What are you going to do after this?" Saz asked as his gaze shifted up at the ceiling, fiddling with her fingers as they lay against his chest.

"What, ready to go again? You're worse than a gundark," she said with a grin.

Saz laughed. "No, I mean after this…after the Maw. Do people like us even get to leave an assignment like this? I've heard you don't leave, you just disappear," he responded heavily.

Alexis frowned. It was a subject everyone thought about, but no one discussed. Like Saz, she had been so excited about being stationed at the installation that she never thought about how she might leave. "I never thought about it. Everything I want is right here, for the moment," she said, pressing closer to him unconsciously.

Saz stared out the window, his smile gone. He had never thought he would meet someone like Alexis, so thoughts of leaving never popped into his head. He had been content to tinker with toys and blind himself to the rest of the galaxy, but being with her made him think of greater things. "I don't think the Empire will ever let us leave, Alex. And they'll never let us be together. Where does that leave us?" he asked, more rhetorically than anything.

Alexis did not answer.

"Let's leave this place. Let's leave and never come back," he said firmly, his eyes not leaving the random control box they had settled upon.

The suggestion caused Alexis to lean up and stare at him with incredulously eyes. "You're serious, aren't you?" she asked, searching his eyes for answers. His silence was the only answer she received and she scoffed loudly. "Where would we go? How would we go?" she asked, still choking on her surprise.

Saz looked to her, seeing her deep concerns. "I've already got a plan. We can take a ship. You said yourself that tracking a ship in the Maw is nearly impossible. They'd never be able to follow us and once we got out, well, we could go anywhere; just the two of us," he explained, trying to make it sound easier than it would be.

"Saz, it can't be that easy. Only a few people know how to navigate in and out of here. Even trying it is…" she began but he quickly interrupted her.

"I know you can do it, Alex. You're the best pilot at the station. You even taught me how to fly," he persuaded.

Alexis sighed and dropped her head, astounded they were even having the conversation. Trying to leave the Empire, especially after being stationed at a top secret facility, was madness. They both knew it, but the idea of being with him at any time, not restricted by rules or schedules, made her heart race in her chest.

It made consideration of the idea a priority.

"Yes, and you're just awful at flying," she teased, smiling at him in spite of the topic.

"I'm a mechanic, not a pilot. I've always been told I'm just a pair of hands," he replied.

"You are just a pair of hands," she said seductively and kissed him, defusing the ominous clouds that had settled over their covert excursion.

He responded to her and held her tight. Despite her higher rank, he felt like protecting her and keeping her safe. He was confident his plan to escape would succeed simply because he knew she could perform the most difficult part; to navigate the black holes and gravity eddies that pockmarked the space around them. He was confident it would work.

That confidence was contagious. "I trust you, Saz. And I'll do what it takes to be with you always," Alexis said, her forehead resting against his. He looked her in the eyes, but did not smile. It was a serious commitment and he had to be certain it would work.

He had to make it work for her sake. "Are you sure? Once we're out, the Empire will stop at nothing to find us. We'll be fugitives," he said, feeling reluctant himself.

"Oh, how big is the Empire anyway? Besides, there's always the rebellion. I heard they're always looking for good pilots," she joked, laughing weakly to him.

Saz put his hand on the back of her head and held her close to him, staring into her green eyes. It was a proposition he had been fostering for weeks, waiting for the right time. With the rebellion stronger than ever and the Empire racked with internal struggles, it was possibly the best time for them to try to get away and be together, regardless of the risk that was involved. He trusted his plan. He trusted his pilot. He trusted his heart and knew it would all work.

All he had to do was try.


	6. Chapter 5

V

Myutta the Hutt had a large palace on the shores of a bog on Nal Hutta. Just as Fennri had feared Aveyla being noticed and demanded by a more important crime lord, Myutta was counting on it. She was of such beauty that he could use her to garner favor with his superiors, or trade favors to his rivals. She was a thing of barter for him, though he had planned to enjoy his ownership of her.

On the dank, smelly world of Nal Hutta, the young Twi'lek was given an even smaller cell and less food than before. She was groped by Gamorrean guards and yelled at even for perfect performances. Despite the indifference she was developing for her life, she still could not contain her disgust when Myutta would hold her close to his slug-like body and slide his slime-covered tongue over her neck or down her thighs. Her dances became more robotic and her movements stiff. She no longer slept in her bed, but only lay across the floor of her cell, staring at the place where the floor met the wall.

She felt she had died inside at only fourteen years old.

The strange occurrences continued and, over time, became worse. Ground quakes were more violent than ever and the occupants of Myutta's palace were often roused from their sleep as things fell from shelves and light fixtures swung back and forth. Once, when Myutta was particularly aggressive with her, the slab he sat on broke in two, sending them both to the ground in a heap. Aveyla suffered a broken wrist, yet was somehow relieved when Myutta avoided being close with her afterwards.

The stigma associated with her after that incident laid new levels of isolation on her. She spent most of her days lying in her cell, trying to clear her mind of the crawling sensation still creeping over her skin. Some days she was not even fed, or forced to eat a plate of scraps kicked under the cell door by frightened guards.

It was also about this time she noticed things would occasionally move from her hand when she reached out to grab them, like she was holding an invisible magnet in her palm. If she concentrated hard enough, she could make things move into her hand, even if they were out of reach. Sometimes she could hear voices in the dark, even knowing there was no one there and, despite the fact she had buried most of her feelings, strange emotions would overcome her for no reason.

This new level of awareness was terrifying to her. With no one around to confide these things to, they began to erode her from the inside. Dark feelings like anger and fear would sometimes overwhelm her, once sending a large crack up the wall of her cell. If anyone approached her, she was unnaturally aware of them and felt extremely threatened. Several guards reported not being able to breathe when giving her food, and she was fed even less than before. She was on the path to oblivion, all while never leaving her cell.

Myutta was equally vexed. His prized slave, which he had been so optimistic about, had become a huge liability to him. No one could explain the occurrences, but everyone was terrified of the young Twi'lek. The Hutt knew he had to get rid of her, sooner rather than later, but the vehicle for disposal was where he was torn. He could not give her back to Fennri and lose face. He could not bring himself to kill her because she was potentially worth so much. He could not keep her and realize his greatest fear, that another Hutt would take interest and demand her, then suffer the same strange occurrences and accuse Myutta of trying to kill them. The cunning Hutt had survived this long by knowing how to navigate the complex inner workings of the criminal empire, so we was not about to jeopardize his position by passing on defective slaves.

While his problem was complex, his ultimate solution was simple.

One night, two thugs slipped into Aveyla's cell and injected her with some kind of drug. She barely had enough time to scream before she was sedated, stuffed into sack and carried from Myutta's palace. She was put onto a shuttle and ferried to the smuggler's moon, Nar Shaddaa, where she would be sold to an acquaintance of Myutta's, never to set foot back on Nal Hutta. It all happened quietly and quickly.

Myutta had never slept as soundly as he did the night Aveyla was taken away.


	7. Chapter 6

VI

"You want to fly out of here in that?" Alexis asked in a voice far louder than she should have. It was late at night and both she and Saz were standing in a restricted hangar, staring at a classified fighter that was under strict lockdown ordered by the Emperor himself.

Saz, turned from the Missile Boat, shrugging wildly at her. "Well, yeah! If you're going to steal a ship from the Empire, steal the fastest, nastiest ship you can find. Don't tell me you're not dying to fly this thing," he replied, a big smile on his face.

"You're such a technophile, Saz," she sighed, looking from him to the ship. She was not as excited about it as he was, but flying a ship that very few had before did have a flare of incentive that lessened how impractical it was to her.

"It looks like a shuttle with teeth," she remarked coldly.

"It is a shuttle with teeth. The Empire packed more firepower in this little ship than a frigate. Just imagine the fun we could have in this baby," he continued, running his hand along the bow of the fighter.

Alexis smirked at him. "Always thinking with your hydrospanner," she said.

"Alex, come on! It's got engines that go twice as fast as anything else. There's no way they could catch us and even if they did, it's got missiles. Lots and lots of missiles," he replied, approaching her with persuasive eyes.

She sighed at him and looked up once more, trying to find the same level of excitement about the idea as he had. The finer points of his escape plan were enough to convince her of its success, but it was his pick of an escape vessel that was making her hesitate. She had tried to point him towards a true shuttle, a freighter and even a small corvette. He would not even turn his head. "It only has one seat, Saz! You would have to ride in my lap everywhere we went," she griped, though his wicked smile and the way he put his arms around her made her laugh in spite of herself. "Oh, wonderful. I can see that aspect is actually part of your master plan," she laughed.

"Alex," he said sweetly, flaring pouty lips at her.

"Oh, don't give me the look. You know I can't say no to the look," she whined, playfully struggling in his arms.

"I'll name her after you. She can be our baby," he cooed.

Alexis groaned, looking from him to the ship and back again. A ludicrous idea piled on top of a ludicrous idea somehow made it seem more plausible and she sighed weakly, finding his banter too charming to deny. "I want you come up with a good name for her. And after we get out of here, you need to fit two seats in that cockpit or you'll be riding in the storage compartment," she said, relenting to his coercion. Saz cheered, jumping back from her to start figuring out how to get the ship out of the garage.

Alexis sighed with a smile. "I know I'm going to regret this," she said.

After watching Saz fawn over the ship and dismissing silly feelings of jealously, Alexis left him in the hangar, determined to get a few hours of sleep before her next shift. His plan to escape was a week away, so they had to continue their daily lives and not draw attention to themselves. It was enough to know he was happy and that, despite the fact he was choosing the ship to satisfy his own love of technology, she knew it would be their best chance at escaping. She also did not mind the thought of being cozy with him in the cockpit of the fighter as they sailed through hyperspace together.

"Late night, Lieutenant?" said a voice as she rounded a corner, freezing her blood and making her nearly shriek in surprise. A uniformed officer was standing strictly in the next passageway, looking at her with devious eyes and his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Her shock diminished after a moment and she glared at him, not at all hiding the disgust she felt with his very presence.

His name was Lieutenant Salazar Bimms, an operations officer who often commanded the flight deck when she was out on flights. He was a capable officer, popular with the command staff for his ability to perform flawless operations and for his spotless record. Alexis knew him for his ability to hide mistakes and blame subordinates when anything happened that might make him look bad in his efforts to move up the chain of command. She was also reviled by his blatant interest in her and the way he seemed desperate to do anything to have her. As he was poised to be promoted very soon, which would make him a superior officer, she found Saz's idea of leaving all the more attractive.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" she asked with little regard to his rank.

Lieutenant Bimms scowled at her tone, but did not lose his obvious interest in her. "Just curious as to why you're all the way in Module A this late at night when your last shift ended eight hours ago and your next doesn't begin for another five," he remarked, then looked about the passageways, as if to look for someone else who might be with her.

Alexis could feel the blood burning in her ears. This man was the last person she wanted to find out about Saz's plan or their relationship, as he would undoubtedly use it to get what he wanted from her. She could not even imagine what he would do if discovered either, but her fears were slowly becoming reality in the malice in his eyes.

"What I do in my spare time is none of your…" she began, but was interrupted by his candid voice.

"Do you think you hide it well, Lieutenant? Do you think it's a secret?" he said, looking back to her. To this, she had no answer, but rather tried to hide the blood boiling her cheeks and the breath caught in her throat. She did not know which of her secrets he was referring to, which made her feel even more panicked by his tone. It choked up her usual poisonous response. He seemed amused by that reaction. "Your little romp with the enlisted technician is unbecoming of you, Alexis. You could do so much better," he said, stepping closer to her and reaching out, taking a bit of her hair between his gloved fingers and examining it as one would fine linen.

Tall and proud, Bimms would have made some woman a handsome husband, but to Alexis he was a snake, always slithering through the grass and waiting for the next meal to present itself. He could not even approach her without looking down on someone, in this case her beloved Saz. It made her blood boil even more.

She batted his hand away and stared up at him, unrelenting against his commanding presence. "What I do in my spare time is none of your concern," she repeated, this time in a firm, powerful voice.

It was a part of her that he found intoxicating; the unwillingness to be intimidated. It made him want her even more. "Perhaps, but you know it's against the rules to fraternize with enlisted personnel. I would hate to see such a promising career come to an end when it could be…easily avoided," he said, smiling viciously as he looked her in the eyes.

"Spare me your threats and intimidations, Lieutenant. I know just how well you get around this station and who's coattails you keep between your fingers," she sneering back, stepping so close to him that her toes pressed against his, "If you feel so inclined to try it, perhaps I'll have a word with Admiral Daala about the little network of bugs you've collected around the station and how you use these little bugs to hide all of the little mistakes you make as you go about your little day. In case you have forgotten, the Admiral has a bit of a soft spot for us female officers and tends to listen well to what we have to say."

Bimms scowled. While he had the high ground with her disregard for regulations, he could not risk having such a high-ranking officer as Admiral Daala formulate a negative opinion of him. It was even more unsettling that the object of his affections somehow knew about his network of underlings coerced into doing his bidding, as he put considerable effort into keeping it all a secret.

Knowing that she knew changed how he looked at her.

He saw her as an enemy.

"Well then, I suppose it's mutually beneficial for both of us to keep secrets, wouldn't you agree?" he suggested without hiding the scorn he felt for her.

Alexis smirked at him, leaning back to give herself some distance. "That's the most sensible thing I've heard you say. I trust we have nothing further to discuss," she said, the stepped around him to hurry back to her quarters. Inwardly, she was shivering at coming so close to getting caught and her knees felt as though they would collapse underneath her.

More than ever, she wanted to leave the Maw with Saz and never look back. It became the one thing she looked forward to as time grew short. Never discussing it with Saz, she let the encounter with Bimms slip to the back of her mind as she dreamed more and more of the day that they would squeeze into the ship and start their life somewhere new.

Unbeknownst to her or Saz, she would never live long enough to see that dream realized.


	8. Chapter 7

VII

Anaos Zane descended into the lower levels of his establishment to meet the special shipment he was receiving from Nal Hutta. His business acquaintance Myutta had claimed she was the most beautiful Twi'lek dancer to part with Ryloth, but the human doubted such a claim. "You can always tell a Hutt is lying when their lips move," he said to himself as he finished the last steps into his own personal speeder dock, finding two thugs crouched near a lumpy sack. The man instinctively fingered the blaster at his side and approached casually, looking around for any other surprises that might await him. Like countless others on the moon, he was both friend and foe to anyone who did business with him. It made any late meeting reason for suspicion.

"An ambush is an acceptable business practice," he also muttered, echoing a common saying spoken on Nar Shaddaa.

Satisfied with the situation, Anaos approached the two thugs and flipped his hand through the air, gesturing for them to remove the sack. "I'm not buying Ithorian potatoes. Let's see this wonderful 'jewel' Myutta thinks I should buy," he said, smirking.

The sack was removed and an unconscious Aveyla was laid out before him. Anaos was genuinely shocked, for she was just as beautiful as Myutta had said, though she was younger than he imagined. Still, his customers came with all tastes, so that was not much of a concern.

Feeling his suspicions flare, the man pulled a bio-scanner from his pocket and aimed it at the sleeping girl. To part with such a precious slave so abruptly brought with it equal amounts excitement and concern, while risk resided somewhere in the balance. There were no devices implanted in her and no chemical agents on her skin. The deal seemed very much straight forward, which made him even more suspicious. However, he was a business man and this was a deal too good to pass up.

"Okay, bring her this way," he said and headed back up the stairs. The thugs obeyed and brought her along.

The new acquisition was put in a room with several droids designed to maintain the performers and slaves who Anaos used in his club. The man paid the thugs a fraction of what Fennri had paid for her and then sent them out to the floor where a fleet of gambling machines, dancers and prostitutes would hopefully retrieve some of the money back from them. Myutta would certainly kill them for using his money, but that was not the concern of Anaos.

Back to matter at hand, Anaos had a medical droid awaken the girl, who was disoriented and frightened at the loud, polluted place. He waited for her to get her bearings, staring down at her beautiful body and soft skin. He imagined there was much money to be made with her.

"Can you understand me? Do you understand Basic?" he asked her after she appeared more lucid. Still weary from the drugs, she felt sick and more likely to vomit than respond, but she managed to nod her head to him. That made him smile.

"Good, that makes things much easier. You are on Nar Shaddaa. I am Anaos and you belong to me now. Since you are young and pretty, you will dance for my customers. You will entertain my customers. You will do whatever they desire, as long as they pay for it. Now, I'm not a monster. I retain a healthy catalog of men and women to cater to any customer's carnal desires. I do not mix my dancers with my whores, but if you lose your appeal or the customer's no longer wish to see you dance, you will become an animal for them and they may do to you whatever they may wish. That is your fate, young one, and a terrible one at that. But since you are young and pretty, that fate may be many years away. So, be good, dance well and make me lots of money. Do you understand?" he explained, as he had thousands of times before.

Her response was to drop her head to him, rubbing her neck where the metal shackle had constantly made her neck bleed. Once again, her circumstances felt like a distant dream to her and she resigned herself to answer in the simplest manner, "Yes, master."

"Wonderful!" the man cheered, then moved his attention to the droids, "Get her cleaned up and out to the floor. These starving customers need to see her tonight!"

Thus began her life as a dancing slave on Nar Shaddaa. Due to her beauty and her grace, she became an excellent performer at Zane's club, bringing him vast amounts of money and repute. Her body matured and her beauty grew over the next year, making her more and more popular with those that came to see her.

Anaos mostly kept his word of utilizing her as a dancer, but some of his more exclusive clientele made regular requests for more personal encounters with the popular Twi'lek. There was a room upstairs in his club where these encounters were arranged, with Aveyla led in by an armed bouncer who also oversaw the conduct of the client. There she was subjected to the whims of the patron, submitting her young body to their desires and closing her heart more each time. On the threshold of adulthood, her world became one of physical use and emotional seclusion. She was barely afforded any time to despair at the terrible fate that had befallen her.

The nature of Nar Shaddaa had also drowned out the occurrences that had plagued both Fennri and Myutta. The voices she had once heard were muffled and the wayward emotions that would set upon her waned. Her ability to move things without touching them remained, but she hardly slept, so these instances were now rare.

They did still happen.

On one particularly dreadful night, while Aveyla was being subjected to the carnal desires of a regular patron to the club in the room upstairs, her powers projected themselves stronger than they ever had before. The man was rough, heavy with drink and complaining to her about a business deal gone sour. He had been touching her in the most sensitive places and the usually submissive Aveyla was overwhelmed by him, feeling a heat well up in her like she had never experienced. One of the more attentive bouncers was present in the room, making sure nothing happened to endanger one of Anaos's slaves, but the drunk man's actions became too much for the young girl and the entire building was rocked by a pulse of energy.

When Anaos managed to get up the room, he was horrified at what he found. The room was destroyed, with furniture everywhere and windows blown out to the busy city beyond. His bouncer was nowhere to be seen, being blasted from the windows and to his death on the streets several hundred kilometers below. The drunk client was piled in the corner, his pants still around his ankles and he was bloody from head to toe, severely injured from the blast.

Aveyla was lying in the center of the room, curled into a ball and breathing heavily. The room had blossomed around her, with all signs showing she was the cause of the explosion. Her eyes fluttering open, she looked to Anaos and whispered in a breathless whisper, "Master…"

Anaos surveyed the room and clenched his fists. Walking swiftly over to the girl, he sent a ruthless kick into her side, making her cry out in pain. She could not fathom why he was suddenly beating her. He continued his assault, pummeling her and wrenching her around by her lekku, all while cursing the damage to his club and to his reputation.

Soon, she was unconscious and bleeding amidst the debris. Anaos stood heaving over her, noticing that other patrons were peeking into the room. Quick to contain the situation, he called other bouncers in to guard the room, while one of them dragged the injured client over to the shattered windows and tossed him out to follow the same grisly fate as the attentive bouncer. It was the quick and easy way to clean up the mess on a brutal Nar Shaddaa.

Aveyla was taken to the lower levels and thrown in a room, then forgotten as the scene was resolved above. When she awoke several hours later, she groaned in pain and could barely move, her body racked with injury and her head throbbing. For several more hours she cried out in agony, calling for her master, Abe'ian and even her father. It was more like a dream than ever, but now was so physically painful that she could barely breathe. No matter how much she rolled or weakly tried to reach the door, there was no relief for her. For reasons she did not know, she was punished. Death, to her, was better than this and for the very first time, she felt lost to despair and she yearned for the end.

At sixteen years old, Aveyla Rom longed for her own death.

Aveyla spent a day in the secluded room, writhing in pain and groaning for help. No one came. During this time, the voices she had once heard and were drowned out by her hectic life on Nar Shaddaa somehow made it into her mind, slithering between her ears and hissing terrible things. It was maddening to her that she could hear someone whispering, yet they were blatantly ignoring her pleas for help.

Deep inside, she could feel darkness welling up.

Early in the morning, Anaos broke open the door and stepped inside, flanked by two of his best bouncers. His face was still twisted by anger, but he was able to control it now, especially after spending so many hours herding patrons and containing damage. Crouching next to her, he listened to her whispering painful apologies in some pale hope he would let the medical droid tend to her wounds.

His eyes were cruel and cold and he grabbed her harshly by her lekku. "Who was it? Bounty hunters? Imperials? Who set off a thermal detonator in my best VIP room?" he asked her. When she responded with whimpers, he threw her head down against the ground and scoffed, standing straight and wiping caked blood from his hands. It was obviously not a satisfying answer. "You'll stay here until you can remember. I can't have people causing problems in my club. It's bad for business," he sneered, turning around and leaving her in the room, despite her pleas to help her.

Tears welled up in her eyes and her sniffling caused even more pain to shoot through her chest. She honestly did not remember much of what happened, and what she could remember she wanted to forget. There was a residual feeling of incredible power and the room seemed to bend around her. Then there was darkness and pain.

For the rest of the day, she remained alone in the room and afraid, the pain slowly giving away to despair. Anaos was content with letting her suffer, despite her not knowing anything. A strange new feeling stirred within her between the gasping breaths and shooting pain.

Hate.

She had never known hate, not even towards those that put her in this life. There was always disgust and despair, but never true hatred. She hated Anaos. She did not exactly know why, for she had always been mistreated, but she hated him for the pain he was putting her through. If possible, she wanted to use her strange powers to hurt him, or kill him. It became a powerful suggestion in her mind and caused the building around them to shake. The door cracked and twisted slightly and windows all over shattered and broke. Screams from all around alluded to panic, from the streets to the dance floor above. All of it seemed focused on Aveyla's singular thought of hurting Anaos.

Then it all abruptly stopped. The young girl had lost consciousness, pressed beyond her threshold for pain. While no one nearby knew what caused the tremors, suspicion was growing inside the mind of Anaos. He was beginning to think his prize dancer was not worth the trouble she caused. As soon as time allowed, he retreated to his office and made a call to some very troublesome people.

After days of drifting in and out of consciousness and on the verge of death, Aveyla was awoken by a strange presence in the room with her. A figure was standing in the corner, covered in heavy robes and carrying themselves with a high degree of integrity. Her injuries stifled any voice she might have, but her eyes were very telling, sapping all energies from her withering body to try and focus on this mysterious figure.

The figure did not move. It stood ghostly still and continued to look upon her. When the room began to react to Aveyla's feelings of anxiety and tremors surged through the walls and ceiling, the figure moved like the wind and was instantly next to her, a soft hand from the robes to settle on the young girl's brow. It was a sensation Aveyla had not felt since being with Abe'ian and it instantly calmed her. There was a strange warmth in her mind. She could not see the figure's face, and not much of anything, but her presence was calming and it soothed the pains in her chest.

"Be still, child. You are safe. Find peace with the Force; let it flow through you," a serene, powerful voice said to her.

A strange sense of serenity came over her, pushing the dark thoughts from her mind. Never in her life had she felt so calm, despite the dire situation she was in. It was like being placed in a warm bath, or cradled in a warm blanket. The strange powers that had plagued her since she was young felt aligned, not reacting to the world around her. It was the peace she had been searching for, so much so that she thought death had fallen upon her.

A soft smile crept across the hooded figure's lips.

The door suddenly burst open and a heavily armed Aqualish thug raised a blaster to the back of the figure, howling something in its native language. While Aveyla was oblivious to this due to her delirious state, the robed figure slowly rose, keeping their back to the thug. It continued to howl unintelligible things, rolling its head around in a fit of anger. The figure did not move. Only when the thug fired a shot did the figure move, swooping around so fluidly that the blaster shot only pierced cloth. A blast of light and energy erupted from the flaying robes and with a swift slice, the arm of the thug came crashing to the ground, accompanied by a howl of pain. A second strike from the lightsaber took the thug's head from his shoulders and his body clumped to the ground. The movements had been so fluid that Aveyla could barely follow them, but she could see the brightly glowing lightsaber clutched tightly in the figure's hand. She could now see her savior, whose hood had fallen back in the movements.

She was Devathorian woman, with long, slender ears and covered with stunning white fur. With her tall, slender form poised to strike any who entered the room, her eyes were searching the doorway for any other pursuers. Her entire visage was beautiful to the young Twi'lek. It was as if some superior being had come down to rescue her, and not a moment too soon.

The woman slowly stood straight after finding no other enemies, then slowly looked back to the young girl. She had not expected to find a beaten Twi'lek girl at the source of such a Force disturbance, but accepted the times as being unorthodox. The glowing blade of her lightsaber pulled back into its hilt and it disappeared under her robes. Knowing time was of the essence, she moved back to the girl and picked her up in her arms, inwardly remarking how light she felt.

"You do not belong here, child. I will take you to a better place," she said in soft tones, and in an instant the room was empty.

Sometime later, Anaos came into the room with his best bouncers, his dark eyes looking over the scene. One of his thugs was dead, the room was now empty. One of his most lucrative dancers was missing and an alarm was blaring through the lower levels of his establishment.

He said very little.

"Boss! Boss!" yelled one of his thugs, running down the hall to meet them, "You have to come see the video! A Jedi! There was a Jedi here!"

Anaos did not stir. His thug was beheaded and there was little blood. A distinct burning smell lingered in the air and he was sure he would see one of the mythical lightsabers on the video. Everything fit together concerning the young dancer and her strange powers. He had acted just moments too late.

"You were right, Boss. The little brat was a Jedi and her Jedi friend must have come for her. What are you going to tell the Imperials?" one of his other bouncers said.

Anaos slowly turned from the scene and looked upon his brainless muscle. "What Jedi? What video? All I have here is some trash that needs to be disposed of. As for the Imperials," he said calmly, stepping over the dead corpse and back into the hallway, where smell was not so strong. "It must have been a prank call. Nothing more," he finished, then walked back towards his office, leaving his men to handle the situation. A new dancer would replace Aveyla and no one would know the difference. The biggest headache to his operation had conveniently disappeared, leaving only a small mess for him to clean up.

Today had been a good day for business after all.


	9. Chapter 8

VIII

Tensions were running high for Saz and Alexis in the days prior to their escape attempt. During their normal shifts, they did their jobs and were careful not to arouse suspicion. During their free time, they were making preparations. Saz used the security droid he had reprogrammed to smokescreen their movements and to hoard data from the station's databanks. A few items from various research centers were also pilfered, though Saz was having a hard time limiting what he would take. It was a delicate balance for him, taking only technologies he felt he would need without arousing too much suspicion. He would take half the station if he could manage it, but chances were high that someone would notice that. The selection process was agonizing for him.

Alexis was busy studying charts and flight information. As a test pilot, she was given broader access than most about the flight paths in the Maw, but an egress was an entirely different story, as only a few were given such valuable information. She was an excellent pilot, but the sheer number of anomalies in the area was going to make their escape difficult, if not bordering on the impossible.

With all of that in her mind, she still knew they could make it. She was an instinctive pilot and flew with flight controls in her hands, not on maps. She had spent time covertly loading flight information into the prototype, but she knew the path would open up to her once she was in open space.

Late one night, Saz was busy working on the security droid with Alexis lying on some crates next to him, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand different scenarios racing through her mind. It was one of the last nights they would be there, safe in their Imperial careers and on their isolated space station. The unknown was a terrifying thing. It was making Alexis reluctant. "Saz, do you think we should stop? I mean, we don't have a perfect life here, but we do have a life," she said, almost speaking to herself.

His response was silence. He continued to fiddle with the inner workings of the droid and dismissed her intuition.

Alexis sighed. She knew he was too far into his plans to stop now, but a nagging feeling of dread had settled in her stomach and she could not get it to go away, no matter how much she yearned to be free with him. Something was telling her it was not going to end well, but she did not want to burden him with it. "The ship is ready. It's been a pain keeping it hidden but I've switched the launch authorizations. All you have to do is get that ship into the right bay and the command deck won't know the difference until after we're already flying off into a Corellian sunrise," she said, inwardly remind herself she had never seen a Corellian sunrise. She made a note to take Saz and look at one.

Saz was still quiet and she turned her head to look at him, finding him resting his arms on his knees and staring at the floor, his splicer waving around in his hand as he thought deeply.

Alexis smiled. This was how she liked to see him, focused and pensive. It was a deep secret of hers that she wanted him to take care of her, despite the strong face she put on. She knew he could do it, and that was one of the reasons she loved him. She felt she could be weak around him and that he would never take advantage of that.

"It's going to work, Alex," he suddenly assured her, looking up from his pensive glance and showing her the determination in his eyes. He had spent too much time planning and there was too much at risk for him to fail.

"I know," she cooed back, dancing her slender fingers across the nape of her neck as she stared back, showing him her total trust in the look in her eyes.

Saz was satisfied with that and nodded, more to himself than anyone, and went back to work on the droid, leaving her to stare at him. She loved watching him work. She loved when he used his hands, in more ways than one. It was satisfying to see him accomplish so much of his own volition, without manipulating someone else and then trying to take the credit in the end.

That train of thought caused her to think about Bimms and the threat he presented, but she was determined to not sour their time together thinking about snakes in the grass. She wanted to get her mind on brighter things. "What are you going to do with that when we leave?" she asked abruptly, looking from him to the droid he had been tinkering with.

Saz looked to her, then to the droid as it stood silently before him. "Who, N4? He's going to be the distraction that makes sure the station is too busy to notice us flying away. He's going to cause a big mess, right, buddy?" he said and tapped on the droids armored body.

"Yes, technician, though I'm hardly excited about the prospect," the droid responded.

Alexis smirked heavily. "I still don't know how you managed to reprogram a security droid to act the way it acts. It's a surprised you're not trying to cram him into some cranny in the ship and take him with us," she remarked dryly.

"Well, I can't take you both and he's not as fun to have on the long hyperspace jump out of here," he said with a grin, making her scoff in response.

"You really are an animal," she said, sitting up and sliding down from the crates. She walked by him and dragged her hands across his shoulder, looking from the droid and then back down to him. The ominous feeling would not shake loose from her, but she did not want him to see it. "I have a flight test today, so I'm going to grab some sleep. See you later tonight," she said, bumping him with her hip playfully.

Saz nearly fell over, but seemed somewhat murky as well in his reaction. He placed his hand over hers, looking up to her. "Be careful, Alex," he said, resonating with routine but tainted by fate.

"Always am, love," she said and pulled her hands from his, heading out from the room and towards her quarters.

Saz had not said anything, but he was also nagged by an ominous feeling of dread. Something was bothering him. He dismissed it as natural anxiety over their escape plan, but he felt an overwhelming urge to run after her and keep her with him; to keep her safe. She would have scolded him playfully and asserted her independence, calling him a brute and overprotective. He tried to bury his mind in his work on the droid but the bad feeling remained.

Later in the day, Alexis was piloting a shuttle with experimental navigation sensors installed and was flying in a tight course around the installation. She remembered the last time she had a mishap when testing some navigation hardware and was being very cautious about her maneuvers, following the mission profile perfectly and keeping in constant with the command deck, just to be sure nothing happened.

When she was at the farthest distance from the station, a problem developed. Her concentration level was elevated, which gave her almost instant recognition when her flight computers began to act strangely. With her heart rate elevated, she tried to correct the errors, but the situation was degrading. The ominous feeling that had plagued her washed over her and she felt panicked, contacting flight control far sooner than she would have under normal circumstances. "Command, this is Echo 1. I'm experiencing reduced flight control. Please advise," she called into the communications device as she continued to try and bypass the problem.

"Be advised, Echo 1, our instruments are all green. Are you declaring a flight emergency?" a voice crackled over the radio, which made Alexis lose concentration for a moment. It sounded familiar and was not the same voice as the control officer that cleared her for departure.

She dismissed it as her ears playing tricks on her and tried to clear her head. "Command, are you sure you're showing all green? I'm finding it very difficult to stay on course and my instruments are biased. Please advise," she repeated, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck.

"Echo 1, are you declaring a flight emergency?" the voice said again, this time distinctly different than before, harboring a underlying tone that made the blood freeze in her veins.

"Lieutenant Bimms? Is that you?" she said, almost breathlessly.

"Hello, Alexis. Having a spot of trouble, are we?" the voice responded. On the command deck, Lieutenant Bimms stood staring at the controls, watching the progress of her mission. She was too far away from the station for him to see the shuttle, but he could imagine the look of terror on her face at that moment. It brought out a wicked smile. "Are you declaring a flight emergency, Lieutenant?" he repeated.

Alexis frantically tried to correct the computer, but nothing was working. Her shuttle was straying off course and away from the station, which was a deadly situation to be in when surrounded by such volatile space. "Affirmative. Echo 1 is declaring a flight emergency," she suddenly called into the radio, though there was a frightening silence coming from the speaker.

"Command! Do you read, Command?!" she cried, turning her attention now to the radio instead of the dead flight controls.

After a moment, the radio called back, but in a completely inappropriate tone for the situation, "Are you frightened, Alexis? Is it frightening out there in the darkness of space, knowing you're headed straight into a black hole?"

The voice of Bimms was cruel, slipping out from the speaker like a forked tongue. Alexis was starting to grasp just how dangerous her situation was and noticed there indeed was a black hole before her, lit only by errant gasses being sucked into it. She was flying right towards it, which clued her to the fact that Bimms had arranged for her disastrous flight, all as a way to get back at her for standing up to him and rejecting him. It was a cruel and petty thing, but Alexis could not find the same strength now.

All she wanted was to be back on the station with Saz, safe and secure in his arms. "Y-yes, Lieutenant, I'm frightened. I'm very frightened so please, help me," she said in a timid voice, feeling hot tears burning her cheeks.

There was a satisfied silence at the other end. "You could have been so much more, Alexis. We could have been so much more. But you scorned me and you chose that…man. It's such a shame," the voice hissed back, making her even more emotionally distraught.

"Salazar, please…" she whispered, hoping his real name might appeal to his humanity. She was desperately wiping the tears from her eyes and clinging to the radio, as if it were some lifeline that could ultimately save her from her fate. The gravity from the black hole was already starting to shake the shuttle and she knew if she did not change course, she would pass the event horizon and could never be saved. Fear was the only thing she thought of, the only thing she felt. There was no pride or anger or even hate, but simple fear.

"Please help me," she whispered again, trying not to notice the way the hull of the shuttle groaned against the currents of the black hole. It was a terrifying sound.

Lieutenant Bimms stared emotionlessly into the controls. He had thought he would feel more satisfaction at the realization of his carefully constructed plan, from the sabotage of the flight computer to the arrangement of his taking the flight deck, but there were no such feelings in hearing her weep into the radio. He felt pity and even remorse. A part of him even wanted to grant her wish and restore the flight controls, but that was simply not possible. Her fate had been sealed from the moment she left the station. He did not even have the stomach to gloat to her, but rather letting his hand fall from the transmission relay and putting his gloved hand over his eyes.

The silence was terrible, even though he knew she was still transmitting. The cold, calculating part of him had set this plan in motion and the compassionate side of him was forced to deal with the moment. He inwardly hated himself and fought back the urge to ask for her forgiveness. That was until he heard her last word come crackling over the radio.

"Saz," she cried, and the transmission ended. The shuttle carrying Lieutenant Alexis Muse was lost to a black hole and never heard from again.


	10. Chapter 9

IX

Saz self-destructed when he learned of the death of Alexis. He spent an hour tearing apart a maintenance bay, throwing anything he could get his hands on in between fits of tears and misery. Even though her loss had not yet set in full, he was delirious and unable to reason. None of the other personnel would go near the bay, as their relationship had not been as much of a secret as they had hoped.

The misery-stricken man found himself sitting against a toolbox, his bloody, greasy hands clutching his head and his body trembling with each wretched sob. He had just seen her hours before, feeling her soft touch and hearing her sweet voice. It was unfathomable that she would lose control of her craft and get pulled into a nearby black hole. She was too talented as a pilot, yet his head did not work right and he could not concentrate enough to understand the details surrounding her death. All he realized was she was gone, and the hole that tore through him was bigger and deeper than the one that had swallowed her shuttle.

Between his legs and damp with mottled tears was Alexis's ID card, which he had always kept with him in his pocket, just as she had with his. Her angelic face was staring up at him, looking as beautiful as ever, though he imagined he looked horrible to her. When he reached down to touch the card, a red streak was smeared over her face, which only enraged the man once more. He slammed his head back against the toolbox, cursing in every way he could imagine, yet no amount of pain or cursing would ever bring her back, and this was the reality he now lived in.

Their escape was only two days away, but it all seemed meaningless now. He had only planned it all to be with her, unfettered by the rules that prevented them from being together. His plan seemed like a childish hobby now, where he felt deep remorse for not spending their last moments together. He hated himself for letting her go. He felt completely lost without her.

Numbed from his grief, he did not realize how hard he had abused himself against the unforgiving frame of the toolbox and Saz colapsed on the floor of the maintenance bay, a deep gash carved into the back of his head. Bathed in unconsciousness, a strange dream flooded his mind and he found himself standing in front of Alexis. She was still as beautiful as ever and she smiled at him, though he could only stare back in shock.

"Hello, Saz," she said, as if nothing was amiss.

He reached out to her, chanting her name and expecting to pass right through her. Instead, he found her corporeal and warm to the touch, a welcome break to his neurotic breakdown. Embracing her with all of his might, he wept loudly, kissing her head and pawing at her back.

"I thought I lost you, Alex," he said weakly.

She smiled. "Saz, you'll always have me, but not like this," she said in a sad tone, one that brought him from his daze and back to stare into her face.

"What…do you mean?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"You have to let me go, Saz. You have move on and leave this place, just like we planned," she said with a measure of authority that he had first fallen in love with. He shook his head wildly.

"No, there is no plan. There is no reason. You were the reason, Alex!" he cried.

Alexis smiled back and steadied his face between her hands. "You are your own reason, Saz. You're too good for this place. Do you think I would want you to stay here or worse?" she said sternly.

"I can't, Alex. I don't have the heart for it anymore," he replied.

Reaching out and taking his hand, she pressed his hand against her chest and looked deeply into his eyes, unwilling to let him give up on his life. "Take my heart with you and be free, Saz," she whispered. He felt hollow. It was agonizing to only get this last moment with her, though he was bitterly grateful to see her again. He wanted the strength to do as she asked, but it was difficult to find it. To the hopeful look in her face, he had to try.

He nodded to her and she smiled. "That's my boy. Remember to give the ship a good name and I'll never be too far away," she said, keeping his hand presses firmly against her body.

Embracing her, Saz spent what little time was left in his dream experiencing as much of her as he could, for he knew this would be the last time he would get to be with her, even if it was only a dream. When he awoke, he was staring up at the ceiling of the infirmary and he was still miserable. Concerned colleagues had dragged him to the medical bay and he had been there for nearly a day, his physical wounds healed but his heart still torn to pieces.

Though hollow and devoid of hope, he thought of her pleas to move on in his life and fulfill their dream outside of the Maw. It became the only motivator for him. Even as he was counseled and released from the infirmary, a single flame burned in him, fueled by nothing more than his desire to honor her memory and fulfill her request.

He would take what was left of her in his heart and find freedom in an infinite galaxy.

* * *

Instead of waiting for two more days, Saz expedited his plans for escape. All of the materials he had stolen were stowed safely in the prototype fighter and the ship itself had been switched with a common patrol fighter, using Alexis's still-active authorization codes. With careful manipulation of computer systems, lapses in security and with the help of the security droid, N4, Saz was ready to perform the dangerous operation, though his tolerance for failure had greatly risen since the death of his lover.

Making some last minute adjustments to N4, Saz was working quietly in a storage compartment, where cameras and microphones were least likely to monitor them. The droid had been oblivious to any changes in the plan and was motionlessly awaiting the final protocols being programmed into its memory. While aware of the loss of Alexis through the station's computer network, it was simply a variable to be computed along with countless others, though it obviously merited discussion in the droid's processors.

"Technician, I have detected an abnormality in your behavior since the death of the organic Alexis Muse. I have adjusted the overall probability of success for this operation by negative thirty-two percent. Would it not be prudent to wait until you are once against operating at maximum capacity before proceeding?" it said.

"I don't know if I can operate at maximum capacity anymore, N4," Saz admitted, trying his hardest to concentrate on the task at hand. With Alex gone, N4 was the only other thing on the station that knew of his plans and the closest thing he had to a confidant. It was going to be that much harder to sacrifice him for the sake of his escape.

"I see," N4 responded, taking a moment to process that information. It was not a protocol droid, nor did it understand how organic beings truly functioned, despite having all of the technical data it could ever need. "Technician, your stated reasoning for leaving this installation was to augment your connection with the organic Alexis Muse. As this variable is no longer relevant, has this premise been altered outside of acceptable parameters?" it continued, somewhat proud of this current exploration of the thing humans called 'small talk.'

Saz sighed and stopped working. It was a question he had asked himself many times. Life did not seem worthwhile without Alexis, but he had also made her a promise, even if it was in his own head. "I know you don't understand it, but humans are more than just a judgment of parameters and risk. We have hearts, N4, and they don't often follow logic or reasoning. I'm going forward with the plan because Alex wants me to. There's nothing more to it than that," he stated and closed the access panel on the droid, then packed up his tools.

N4 raised its integrate heavy blaster into the standard patrolling position and analyzed Saz, noting his erratic energy output and diminished physical conduct. "Technician, I am sorry about the loss of the organic Alexis Muse. If possible, I shall exert an effort beyond my parameters to facilitate your escape, so that your chances of honoring her wishes are increased," it said, drawing a bitter smile from Saz.

"Thanks, buddy," he replied, patting his hand across the droid's armored shoulder.

With all of the pieces in place, Saz began his escape from the Maw Installation. With N4 leading him along, he snuck through the empty hallways towards the main launch bays, counting on the fact that personnel were at their minimum during the imposed night. He carried nothing with him but his satchel of tools, for carrying any of the weapons he had taken would instantly set off the sensors, leaving his safety in the hands of N4 and his impressive armament. If his plan proceeded smoothly, he would not need the firepower until after he was aboard the ship, where N4 would then begin fire upon carefully selected computer systems in an effort to mask the launch of the fighter and its departure from the sensor grid.

With every step, Saz was counting in his mind, keeping the strict schedule at the forefront of his mind. Even a second wasted would increase the chance of being caught, which was going to be one of the hardest parts of escaping with Alexis. Saz could keep time accurately in his mind, but choreographing his movements with another person made it harder to keep in time and doubled the amount of people to be detected.

In retrospect, even though his mind was mostly focused on the task at hand, he wished she was there with him.

"Halt! Present your identification card, organic," said a deep, mechanical voice from an adjacent hallway. Saz had been distracted and lost track of the time, leading them to be moments behind schedule in the path of one of the patrol droids, kin to N4. They were standing right outside of the launch bays, but the security droid was aiming a heavy blaster at Saz, ready to fire at any moment.

"Not good. N4!" he cried and a powerful blast ripped into the opposing security droid, tearing it to pieces at the same time it fired a shot at Saz. While it missed, the weapon's fire set off the alarms and the hallway was filled with red lights and blaster fire, with the automated defense systems firing a barrage into the source of the discharge, N4. The destroyed droid was blasted into the launch bays at the same time the doors were closing as part of the security lockdown. Saz dove in to the bay as well as the jaws of the doors snapped shut behind him, though more security protocols were engaging all around them. The launch bays closed and the power systems went to a minimum, leaving Saz scrambling in the dark to get his bearings. The ship, independent from the station's power systems, was still ready to go, but the bay doors were sealed and the defense grid was likely activated.

Probability for his plan's success quick dropped through the deck plates.

Saz was trying to figure out his next move and guessed he had less than a minute before more security droids would be on location and the fighter patrols and Star Destroyers would be alerted to the trouble in the station. He had to get to the ship and launch, but his eyes fell on the destroyed remains of N4. The droid was smoldering and sparking in the deck, its processor randomly spitting out security protocols.

Feelings of loneliness welled up in Saz and he remembered that N4 was the only other colleague he had, so his loss hit him harder than usual. Cursing under his breath, Saz jumped over and used his tools to disconnect the remaining relays between N4's processor and his droid body. His databanks carried a large portion of Saz's personal files and, more than that, he was a friend. He could not leave them to be completely destroyed.

With the droid's processors and memory banks in his satchel with his tools, Saz sprinted over to the waiting ship and boarded, settling into the familiar flight controls that he and Alexis had studied for hours on end. He had rehearsed countless of times with her, so they felt familiar, but he realized he was a fraction of the pilot that Alexis was and he had never actually flown the prototype fighter. There were also the launch bay doors, closed tight and impossible to open by computer bypass. Once the fighter was powered up, that obstacle became an afterthought as two concussion missiles ripped open the doors and blow atmosphere into space.

"Here we go, Alex!" Saz cried and throttled the fighter out of the launch bays, where it was met by a dozen TIE fighters already patrolling near the area and quickly becoming aware of the situation aboard the station.

The prototype fighter flew erratically as soon as it exited the station, due to a rush of adrenaline and unfamiliar flight behavior. The ship flew like nothing Saz had ever flown before and he had trouble even keeping it straight, much less avoid the incoming fire from the fighters and the looming Star Destroyer behind them. "Oh man, this isn't good!" Saz screamed and tried to evade the fighters, but he found himself quickly heading towards another module on the station and fated to meet a fiery end against its rocky asteroid shell. Not due to his flight skills, the prototype fighter was steered away from the collision so abruptly that two of the pursuing TIE fighters did not avoid a similar fate. Saz was starting to get used to the powerful craft and the reinforced shielding was absorbing anything the fighters were throwing at him, but he was still flying in circles and too agitated to concentrate on his flight path.

"What now, Alex?" he asked to the empty space where his lover was supposed to be and he tried to take a few glances to the instruments to find their allotted course, but he was too focused on the visuals of his escape and too inexperienced to use his ship efficiently. He was reacting to anything around him, and it ultimately led him into trouble.

A massive blast rocked the side of the ship and tossed Saz violently around the cockpit, knocking his head against an instrument cluster. A stream of blood rushed down his temple and his vision became blurry, but he focused enough to notice a smaller corvette bearing down on him, firing not only turbolasers, but concussion missiles as well. The ship was damaged from a poorly aimed missile, but still in working shape. He knew he would not get another pardon again. The corvette continued to pursue and another Star Destroyer was coming around the station to join the pursuit. The iron hand of the Imperial Navy was closing around him and his escape plan was quickly falling apart, though Saz did have one more trick up his sleeve.

Trying his best set the ship on the course Alex had plotted, Saz engaged the SLAM motors on the fighter, sending the engines into overdrive and doubled his speed. None of the pursuing ships could match such speed and the Missile Boat sped away from the station and into the depths of the Maw, soon becoming so embedded in the anomalies that none of the pursuers could track him.

While this was a positive thing for his escape, it soon presented new problems when the gravitational currents of the black holes began to shake the ship violently, just as the SLAM motors had run their course and the ship was thrust back into power-saving mode, just when Saz needed all the power he could get for flight control.

His vision blurry and his head heavy, Saz tried to navigate the currents even as the violent nature of the Maw threatened to tear his ship apart. Inwardly, he felt a certain satisfaction with disappearing into the same black holes that took his beloved Alex, but his instincts continued to fight that fate and try to navigate the ship. Gradually, his consciousness began to fade and he felt the decision being taken from him.

Passing out in the midst of the black holes, Saz sped towards an uncertain fate in the damaged fighter, unaware that his guardian angel had already secured his fate long before she had ever passed away.

* * *

When Saz came around, the fighter was floating quietly in a bare patch of space, safe from the violent currents of the surrounding anomalies and from the pursuing forces of the Maw Installation. His head was throbbing and his eyes were still blurry, but he was alive and not in any immediate danger. "Ugh, what happened?" he groaned, momentarily forgetting he was alone in the ship. The instruments were displaying a range of data and some navigational variables, but the most significant object was the successful completion of a pre-programmed operation to take the ship to an area of reasonable stability and remain stationary until further pilot input. The programmer was listed as Alexis Muse, and Saz placed his hand on the display with a reverent sigh escaping his lips.

"Thanks, Alex," he said.

The ship itself was in good shape. It had suffered some damage from the attack but most systems were available and the power reserves had recharged after using the SLAM motors. The only major issue was the lack of a pilot.

While resting in a somewhat stable region of the Maw, there was no way out but through more gravitational currents and surfing the edges of black holes, something Saz was positive he could not do on his own. He had always assumed that once he was in the cockpit, he would be able to figure a way out but the data coming through the sensors was like nothing he had ever seen before. Even translating it made his head hurt, so Saz was quickly becoming skeptical at his chances of survival.

A strange sound came growling from under his arm. After digging through his satchel, he discovered the remnants of N4 still operating under what residual power he had left, though only through a series of relays and processors that were firing in last desperate moments of their existence.

Saz suddenly got an idea. For the next few hours, he tore open access panels and rewired a large portion of the computer relays in the ship, figuring he could not make his situation much worse by fiddling with the ship's components. The results became apparent as the voice of N4 came crackling over the speakers, sounding slightly different than when housed in a security droid body. It was nothing more than redundant commands and security protocols, but Saz was happy to hear a familiar voice.

"N4, can you hear me?" he asked, still playing with the wiring. He was glad the remnants lasted long enough for him to integrate them into the ship's power supply, though he was not sure what kind of memory damage would occur. The continuation of N4's security protocols signaled that he had not yet gotten the wiring right. "Come on, buddy, tell me this is going to work," he said, working hard at the wiring.

N4 began reciting random bits of data from the station's databanks and Saz took that as a good sign, but he still needed the interface with the droid and could not seem to find the right connections. "Come on, talk to me," he sighed in frustration through the throbbing in his head.

"Technician, I find myself subject to the most unusual sensor data. I believe I've been ejected into open space. Can you send maintenance out to retrieve me?" said a crackling voice over the intercom.

Saz laughed in triumph, making quick note of how he had the remnants wired into the ship. "It's sure good to hear your voice!" he cheered, though the droid seemed surprised by his delight.

"Technician, I must submit a second request for maintenance. I cannot access my movement servos and all weapons systems are offline," it said in a very candid, mechanical way.

Saz laughed again and shakily wiped some blood from his brow. "That's because you're not a security droid anymore. You've been promoted to starship. How do you feel?" he asked, continuing to integrate more systems into the remnants.

N4 spent a moment processing. "Technician, I have extensive access to a wide array of sensor data and have limited access to propulsion and navigation," it remarked and a few instruments reflected some of the operations being processed by the droid.

"That's perfect, N4. That's exactly what I need," he responded, "I'm going to need your help getting out of here. There's too much data for me to look at and we have to steer clear of those black holes, or else we'll get squished. Can you do that for me?" he asked, soldering some connections on one of N4's main processors.

N4's voice seemed to cry out in an ascending wave of tones, then settled back to its normal dull drone, "Technician, I am a security droid, not a navigational computer. I'm afraid it's beyond my programming."

That brought a frown to his face, but he shook his head vigorously. "No, I've come this far and I'm not giving up, and neither are you. Come on, N4, together we can pilot this ship out of here," he said confidently, tucking wiring an components out of the way when he was satisfied he had done as much as he could with the integration.

"Technician, I calculate our chances of success at thirty percent. However, the organic Alexis Muse has apparently programmed several likely courses that raise the overall probability to sixty percent," N4 stated.

Saz smiled and looked to the ID card hanging from some instruments. Alexis's face was still staring back at him, strong and confident. It made his heart ache, but swell at the same time. "She's still looking out for us, N4," he said and took the controls, eager to follow the course she had laid out before him. Deep inside, he still felt lost and had no real idea what he was going to do even if he managed to survive the slalom of gravity wells that waited just ahead. The ship was frighteningly empty and the pilot's seat felt awkward to him, as if he did not belong in it.

Despite his doubts, he throttled the ship forward, clutching to the thought that he still had Alex with him, in the memory banks of the ship and in his heart. He felt betraying her by giving up was the most cowardly thing he could do and he would not allow himself to disappoint her. It did not matter what waited for him outside of the Maw. He would trust Alex and attain the freedom they had long desired. Afterwards, he would find his place in the galaxy, with his prototype ship, his disembodied droid friend and the memories of his dead lover all wrapped tightly around his heart.


	11. Chapter 10

X

Aveyla was drifting an out of consciousness for days. There were only glimpses of her surroundings that permeated the haze in her mind; a deserted street, a spaceport, a ship and then a room carved from red stone that resonated with the light side of the Force. In this room, Aveyla felt a very different sort of connection than she had on Nar Shaddaa, with voices once again filling her mind, though they were quieter and more reserved than those she had heard before. The warm sensation that had comforted her remained, but she also noted that the sensations she felt were cold, though not like ice was cold. She felt detached from the place, despite her safety. It was a bizarre sensation.

When her wounds had mostly healed and she had passed through the worst of her pain, she stirred slowly and sat up, disturbed by the soft bedding around her and the silence. It was fundamentally different than what she remembered last. Once more, she questioned whether or not she had died in that cold storage room, but the throbbing in her head dictated otherwise and she felt an intense sickness washing over her.

"Finally awake, child?" said a soft voice that startled the young girl. Aveyla's eyes darted to a motionless figure sitting across from her in the room. With her legs and her arms locked in meditation, the mysterious figure that had rescued her did not have her eyes open, but seemed unnaturally aware of her every move. The Tei'lek was anxious about being away from her master and afraid of this new figure.

The figure seemed to notice. "Calm your mind, child. You are safe. You are on Ruusan, far away from the life you knew. This place is the Valley of the Jedi, a forgotten monument to those who fought long ago," she explained, only her lips moving.

Aveyla still felt apprehensive. "Jedi?" she whispered.

"Yes, the Jedi," the figure repeated, her eyes opening to the girl. They were lucid and fierce, but had gentleness in them. It was enough to entrance the young girl, though she still showed great fear of her new surroundings. "My name is Sheon, and I too am a Jedi. Do you know why I have brought you here?" she asked, slowly adjusting her arms from the meditation she had been applying. Aveyla shook her head timidly. "You have a connection with the Force. I sensed it most fiercely as I hid upon the Smuggler's Moon. Do you know what I speak of?" Sheon continued, searching her face for more than just verbal response.

Aveyla shuddered at the thought, remembering incident that had unleashed the rage of Anaos on her. She also thought back to the many times her strange powers manifested and burdened her. With a label now at hand, she found she disliked the Force.

"I'm not sure. I hear strange voices and things move without my touch. Master Anaos didn't like it, and neither did Master Myutta," she said quietly, hugging herself tightly. Idly, she wondered how Abe'ian would have reacted to her budding powers, though she wanted to believe he would have still embraced her.

Sheon tilted her head slightly. It was unusual for the Force to manifest itself so potently without instruction, yet she knew something was different about the Twi'lek girl from the moment she felt the sudden surge of ripple through the Force on Nar Shaddaa. The girl had an unusual signature in the Force, not distinctly Light or Dark. Her presence felt balanced and pure. It had persuaded the Jedi to risk exposure to rescue her, despite the fact it could easily bring the hunters of the Empire down upon her.

It appeared the risk had been well worth the effort.

"That is the Force. This place is strong with the light side of the Force and the voices you hear are from spirits speaking to you from beyond death," she explained, watching the girl look around fearfully. A bitter smile crossed her lips, as she found the girl charming in spite of her sordid past. "Do you have a name, child?" she asked.

Aveyla was disturbed at being asked her name. Most only referred to her as a slave, so the last person to truly know her name was Abe'ian. It made her slightly protective of it. "A-Aveyla," she whispered, looking down to the blankets wrapped around her legs. The subject made her realize she had nearly forgotten her entire name, though a lingering heartache at losing her family kept the rest of it from her tongue.

"Come with me, Aveyla. I will prepare a meal for you, so that you may regain your strength," Sheon said as she rose, then extended a hand out to her.

Reluctantly, the young girl succumbed to the hunger churning in her stomach and accepted the Devaronian woman's offer. Despite the fact she was extremely wary of strangers, she felt calm and serene around the woman. It was a pleasant change of pace from the latest string of new acquaintances Aveyla had suffered through.

After eating for the first time in days, Aveyla spent the rest of the day in the company of Sheon, a Jedi Knight that had been in hiding for nearly ten years. She learned the woman had been on a special assignment when the Jedi Order was massacred and did not return until long after most of the Jedi had been hunted down or exterminated by the Empire and its minions. Unsure on how to react, she followed most of her colleagues into hiding, using her time to search out other Jedi or Force-sensitives. She had led a mostly uneventful life in exile, staying in places where detection through the Force was difficult.

As she had been led to the young Twi'lek, she felt the Force has brought them together for a greater purpose. "Aveyla," said Sheon, sitting her down near a garden that struggled to grow in the Valley, "it is no accident that led me to you. The Force has greater designs for you, if you can learn to control your power. I brought you here to learn the ways of the Jedi. It will not be easy, but I know you will become a fine Jedi, if you are up to the task."

Aveyla was reeling. She had just been lying beaten in a storage room, a slave at the mercy of her master's rage. The only thing she knew of the Jedi was a few vague references in the books at Abe'ian's manor and the verbal lore that circulated the seedy corners of Myutta's palace. She had no idea what it meant to be a Jedi, but she felt such serenity in the presence of Sheon that she was willing to leave her past behind her and do whatever the woman asked, even if it meant embracing the powers she had so passionately despised.

"You are getting ahead of yourself, Sheon. You should not fill the girl's head with visions of glory and service that existed in the old Order. You don't even know if she can be trained," said a strange voice from the garden, startling Aveyla and making Sheon rise from her place.

A man approached them, making Aveyla feel anxious and flighty once more. He was a Khil, much older than Sheon was, clad in gray robes and carrying an ancient tome in his hand. The strange, mechanical voice originated from a pendant around his neck, which translated his thoughts into speech, as his native language was known by very few outsiders to his species. The writhing tentacles what constructed his mouth frightened the young girl, though Sheon did not seem bothered by them. As a matter of fact, she bowed slightly to him, showing the man due levels of respect for his station.

"Master Xerros, we both agree that we cannot sit by and let the Order decay or be destroyed by the Sith. The traitor Skywalker and the Emperor are too powerful for what few remaining Jedi there are, so we must renew our ranks. She has a strong connection to the Force and…" she began, but the man raised a hand and interrupted her, the mechanical tones of his translator barking from his pendant.

"She is strong with the Force, but I sense much fear in her. Her emotions are unbridled and her mind is weak. Her age is also a factor," he replied, looking down at the girl with skeptical eyes.

Sheon pursed her lips and stood her ground, unwilling to relent on the potential she felt in Aveyla. "Master, I would have not brought her here if I was not certain she could learn. Between the two of us and the relics you have preserved, we could train new Jedi and strike back at the Sith. Aveyla would be but the first to embrace the Jedi way," she proposed, not shy at hiding her vision of the future.

A hissing sound escaped the Khil's tentacles as he sighed, looking between the two with tired eyes. He had been disturbed enough when Sheon found him on Ruusan, but now she had begun bringing children to his sanctuary. While he understood the truth in her words, there was conflict within him and he feared what would happen if they were to be discovered by their enemies. "You are still as headstrong and fearless as ever, Sheon, but you are also right. If you trust the child can be trained, then so be it, but we must be cautious. This sanctuary is well hidden from the Sith, but we must be careful to not create ripples in the water," he warned, turning his eyes down the young girl. He had sensed how powerful she was, but also that her power was wild. It would be easy for her to alert their enemies, even if she did not mean to. He knew Sheon understood that, so he would not press the matter.

"We will train the child," he said.

* * *

A new chapter began in Aveyla's life. The transition from a slave to Jedi was challenging and painful, with even the most basic principles such as confidence and concentration being difficult for a girl who had been owned by others since she was a child. The physical demands were great, especially for her weak body, and Xerros was very strict in his instruction.

The greatest influence on the young girl was Sheon. Aside from teaching her to handle a lightsaber and control her telekinesis, Sheon also talked with her on many different aspects of the Force, not just the tangible kind. The woman was open-minded and sought to understand the greater purpose of the Force, and this directed the way Aveyla thought of the galaxy and her place in it. While Xerros was a Jedi Master and had an entire library of instructional texts and a breadth of technical knowledge, it was in Sheon that Aveyla found her mentor and grew to love her as she had loved very few others. Those days were some of the happiest in Aveyla's life, where the brutalities of her past were subdued and her smile had returned. Sheon returned this affection freely and the two were much like a mother and daughter, just as Abe'ian had been much like a father in another life.

Those days were not destined forever, as the galaxy churned and plotted without any regard for the happiness of one single being.

On a day just like any other, the sanctuary was disturbed by the presence of the dark side of the Force. Minions of the Emperor's Executor, Darth Vader, had been dispatched to investigate Ruusan, where denizens of the dark side had sensed vibrations in the Force. Xerros, Sheon and Aveyla were hidden away, but watched every move of the shadowy figures scouring the Valley of the Jedi for them, their every moment a threat of annihilation. Aveyla had rarely felt such fear, despite the fact she had Sheon protecting her and her own lightsaber in hand. While she had developed a far greater level of confidence than ever before, fear shackled her body and all of her training had slipped from her mind.

There was only fear, and fear led to the dark side.

As quickly as the dark force has arrived, it disappeared when the minions found no trace of the Jedi. Xerros had taken great care to hide the sanctuary and those preparations had paid off, but the encounter had jarred the Jedi from their complacency and brought about a decision that tore a hole in Aveyla's heart.

The two senior Jedi agreed their number was too great and that they had to lessen the vibrations of the Force present in their enclave. It was decided that Sheon would depart Ruusan, but that decision made Aveyla hysterical with fear.

"You can't go! It's too dangerous for you to be alone," she was pleading, watching the Jedi Knight picking through travelling supplies in preparation for her departure.

Sheon smiled bitterly, looking to the girl with all of the motherly affection she had fostered over their months together. "Aveyla, I am not a child and you cannot afford to act like one any longer. I will be fine, and I will be searching for others like you who may be taught our ways," she cooed, patting her hand across the girl's head.

Her calm was not contagious to her student, who seemed even more frightened that when she was brought to Ruusan. "Then I'll go with you. Master Xerros prefers to be alone anyway," she pleaded, clutching the older Jedi's arm.

"My child, you have learned much in these few months, but you are still young and vulnerable. Your lightsaber skills are unrefined and you still suffer tremors when you sleep. It is far safer for you here and I cannot be burdened with looking after you as you learn," Sheon explained, deliberately being blunt to destroy any plans she might have to try and follow her. The realization that she would endanger Sheon made Aveyla drop her eyes, though her clenched teeth continued to display her resistance to the idea.

Not wanting to draw out the farewell, Sheon left Ruusan very quickly, saying her goodbyes to her student and to Master Xerros, whom she entrusted with continuing the girl's training. Once more, Aveyla watched someone she loved leave her life and she found it difficult to control her emotions as Sheon had taught her. Despite remaining in the tutelage of Xerros, she suddenly felt very alone.

In the years following Sheon's departure, Aveyla's training as a Jedi reverted to reading texts and suffering the callous training regimen of Master Xerros, who's teaching priority was on the learning of technical information and facts from books. While Aveyla had once excelled at book learning, her studies became flat and her skills did not improve, much to the chagrin of Xerros, who became more and more critical of her and distributed punishments more and more vicious. Gone were the personal talks about the nature of the Force or how the technical information was translated to the world around them. Instead, her roll became less like a student and more like a servant, a lifestyle Aveyla had desperately tried to forget from the time when a collar hung around her neck. Her daily tasks were remedial, and she had not touched a lightsaber in months. Xerros spent his time pouring through the ancient relics he had amassed and rarely spoke to her, especially of her training.

In lieu of any real training, Aveyla studied the library of relics with great fervor, learning much about the ancient precepts of the Force and the Jedi philosophy. She also came across some rare Sith artifacts and texts. Much to her surprise, Master Xerros did not seem critical of her when she began to study them, rather ignored her as he always did. Having a stark contrast to the Jedi philosophy made Aveyla's head churn with thoughts of the dark side, yet she was constantly comparing the two, jumping from one text to another to find correlation of ideas and where the two philosophies met and diverged.

A notable event in her time with Xerros came when a tremor surged through the Force with such might, it had nearly caused Aveyla to pass out. It was as if the galaxy itself had wailed in relief as a dominating pressure was lifted from it. Somewhere far away, beyond where Aveyla and Xerros would ever hear about it, the Dark Lord of the Sith and his apprentice perished around Endor and the pendulum of the Force swung back to the Light, finding a measure of balance with the son of Chosen One.

By the time Aveyla's body and mind had all but matured, she had studied nearly every relic in the sanctuary. Her relationship with Xerros had always been changing, slowly but with great affect on their daily lives. Their isolation had driven the Khil to exhibit strange behavior for a Jedi Master, and his waning interest in her had begun to grow, though he still showed no interest in continuing her training. Instead, she felt like he looked at her very much like the patrons at Anaos's club. She felt like someone was watching her as she went about her daily routine, especially when she bathed. When he did approach her for some remedial chore, he made any excuse to touch her or linger close by, a wicked look in his eyes.

Aveyla had grown up and was extremely familiar with the carnal side of men, so she did all she could to avoid him. Although she could barely use it, she carried her lightsaber at all times and doubled her efforts to study defense techniques. Ironically, his aggressive advances provided her with more training and knowledge than any time since Sheon had left, but the young woman knew that someday her master would snap and his advances would no longer be casual. While her younger self would have submitted to him and accepted her role, her studies in Jedi and Sith philosophy and training made her more resistant to domination, to point where she would deny him with everything she had.

During a time when she was avoiding her master, wandering deep in the sanctuary, she had come across a relic that Xerros had never been able to study. In her own studies, she recognized it as a Sith holocron, though its owner and purpose was sealed in silence, even as she handled it with trembling hands.

Suddenly, the holocron reacted to her and a glowing figure rose from the shadows, revealing a long-dead Sith Lord who breathed heavily through a respirator and glared at her with golden eyes. Aveyla had fallen back and was terrified, so out of touch with her training that she did not draw her lightsaber. The figure groaned and wailed, as if to realize his own demise, then turned his attention back to the girl.

"Who disturbs Darth Malgus?" he snarled. Aveyla could not answer, and the figure gazed at her for a long time. "Could it be you, the one I loved and destroyed to break my heart of weakness?" he said, reaching out to her with a strangely sentimental look in his eyes.

Aveyla continued to be stricken with fear, cringing from him and feeling very much like the small girl who had been abused by cruel masters and broken by a slave's shackles. The image of Darth Malgus hesitated for a moment, then stood straight, his hand returned to his side. "No, it cannot be you. You are a frightened child, but the Force has a hold on you. Tell me, do you revel in the power of the dark side, or do you follow the foolish Jedi in the light?" he asked.

Trembling, Aveyla shook her head, her eyes wide and locked on him. "I-I don't know," she said, her mind blank and her heart frozen.

"Good," Malgus replied, letting out a thundering laughter and holding out a clenched fist, "As long as you crush your foe, it does not matter where they lie. I sense the taint of Jedi weakness in you, but also the fury of the dark side. If you heed these teachings, you will become a powerful warrior, just as she was." With the opening his hand, a flash of energy took hold of Aveyla and her eyes began to glow red. Glimpses of the past flashed in her mind, followed by a flood of emotion. Skills mastered by the dark lord pulsed through her body and she felt a surging power, though it was all so overwhelming that she screamed, clutching her head and falling to the ground.

Malgus lowered his hand, staring at her in silence as she tried to process all he had given her. It had not killed her, which his spirit looked well upon. "Take this power and crush your enemies," he said and his spirit faded away, leaving the silent holocron once more hiding his secrets.

Her head throbbing, Aveyla stumbled from the chamber that held the holocron and out into the main library of the sanctuary. The influx of dark energies and knowledge had weakened her so that she collapsed in the midst of the Jedi relics, her body trembling and her teeth clenched in pain. The power and knowledge of a Dark Lord of the Sith was a potent thing for such a frail container, but something far more sinister was looming in Aveyla's future as approaching footsteps signaled that Jedi Master Xerros had sensed the outburst of dark energy and was quickly coming find out what its source was.


	12. Chapter 11

XI

Despite an escape for the top-secret station and successful navigation from the Maw itself, Saz found there was little solace for him in the harsh tides of the galaxy. The Imperial Navy was on high-alert and his first natural stop of Kessel was a hornet's nest of warships and fighter patrols. With barely enough time to reset his hyperdrive, he fled the system in any safe direction he could find, which was an infinitesimal sliver on the compass, for his mere appearance in at Kessel clued the Empire that he had successfully escaped the Maw and was at large possessing technology that the Emperor had deemed too dangerous to be lose.

Both he and his ship were wounded, with their reserves running low and spirits failing. Each following system he approached was the same, with Imperial ships instantly clued to his arrival and desperate to capture or destroy him. Only the superior technology of his ship allowed him to escape each time, but even the ship seemed exhausted and suffering from its wounds.

With only scant rations left and power reserves in the red, Saz knew the next system would be where he had to stop, so prepared himself for a fight. When he came out of hyperspace at Columex, he found there was little, if any Imperial traffic and that the steady stream of ships around would make it easier to approach the orbiting stations.

Using what little power he had left, he slipped inconspicuously towards a station and landed in the first bay he could find. Once landed, the toll of the escape caused Saz to pass out, with only the endless chatter of N4 filling his mind as he slipped into unconsciousness. With no great surprise, he dreamed of Alexis. Now that he had successfully escaped, he was forced to confront the fact he no longer had his purpose for escape. Even in his dreams, Alexis encouraged him and tried to reignite the passion he had about being free to do whatever he wanted, but all he wanted was to stay in his dreams, her arms wrapped around his head and listening to her sweet voice fill his ears.

A loud banging awoke him. With his skull pounding and his vision blurry, the man banging on the front of the ship was not a welcome visitor, but he appeared very angry at the presence of the ship. "What do you think you're doing in my garage? Do you think this is a free parking zone or something?" he howled at Saz, who was just barely cognizant enough to speak.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Don't you recognize an injured man when you see one?" Saz groaned, wiping wet blood from his cheek.

The old man scoffed. "If I let every zoned out spacer land in my place just because he had a sob story, I'd never get any work done," he grunted, showing very little sympathy.

Saz tried to focus enough to get his ship going again, but realized he was nearly out of fuel and had no provisions left. He also realized that the wetness on his cheek was not blood, but that he had been crying while dreaming of Alexis. It made him embarrassed and quiet, but it also struck a different tone in the old man. "Hey, are you okay, kid? You need a doctor or something?" he asked, shedding his gruff façade.

Saz knew his head wound was minor and that he did not want to draw attention to himself, so he shook his head and continued running diagnostics on the ship, seeing if she was ready to find a new place once more.

The old man frowned. It was obvious the young man was on the run, judging from his condition and the damage to his ship. When he found the ship in his bay, he had nearly called the authorities to report an unlawful landing, but seeing the sad state he was in made him glad he did not. The old mechanic may have been calloused from years of working broken starships and sparking speeders, but he also knew a wrecked man when he saw one. It was one thing he had never learned to repair, but he still felt inclined to try.

"This is one slick looking ship, kid. What's her name?" he asked, looking over the prototype.

Saz froze, his eyes immediately moving over to the ID card hanging in the cockpit. The promise he had made with Alexis hit him hard and he sighed, going back to his diagnostics. "She doesn't have one yet," he said.

"It's bad luck to have a ship with no name, plus it makes it hard to land anywhere legally," the old man scolded, unconsciously looking from the damage to the Imperial markings. He imagined the young man had quite the story to tell, and he was now very glad he had not contacted the authorities. Imperial attention was not something he wanted, good or bad.

"I don't know if I can give her a name yet," Saz responded, frustrated by the stubborn power systems, even though he had run the ship just as hard as he had run himself, so he should have not been so surprised when it was eager to rest as well. Inwardly, his reluctance to name the ship after Alexis as he had promised stemmed from the fact he was scared. With the Empire so desperate to find him and his own skills lacking, he could not cope with giving the ship her name and then losing her to the Empire. He felt inadequate to assign such a heavy burden to the ship.

Before Saz realized it, the old man was wrenching on the damaged panels of the ship and cursing at the carbon scoring that was blemishing the hull. Feeling threatened, Saz broke open the cockpit of the fighter and hollered at him, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"Are you blind and stupid, kid? Broken ships get fixed in this shop. This is a broken ship, so it's getting fixed," he responded, not looking up.

Saz struggled with the harness of the pilot's seat and scrambled down to the old man, furious at first but then watching him with angry words stuck in his hanging mouth, surprised at how adept the man was despite the fact he was working on technology no one outside of the Empire had seen.

"Hey, you're not bad at this," he said, feeling his anger die down.

The old man scoffed again. "I've been fixing one thing or another for thirty years. I don't need some crybaby kid telling me that," he sneered, his attention firmly on the ship.

Saz felt his apprehension die down as he watched the man, feeling that he did not have to treat him as an enemy. Saz's natural tendency was to trust, which got him in trouble as many times as it did not, but something told him that he could trust the old man, and a deep sigh of relief escaped from his very core.

In what became a surprise friendship and a mentorship, Saz was introduced to Modo Terel, a retired Republic mechanic that made a scant living on the station with his tools and his knowhow. During the Clone Wars, he had been caught in a battle and injured, which caused him to walk with a limp, but his hands were as virile as ever and he demonstrated instincts about repairing ships that Saz had never seen before. While Saz was a great engineer and mechanic, Modo was a master at it and during the repairs to the Missile Boat, he learned everything from fabricating parts from a junk pile to using kitchen utensils to repair a speeder.

For Modo, it was a silent joy to have someone to talk to that understood his technical jargon and a student to learn all of the things he could teach. At times he felt intimidated by the young man, for his ship and his knowledge were far more advanced than the kinds of ships he had worked on since retirement, but he found the young man receptive to learning and had many of the same instincts when it came to working with his tools and his hands. Although he would curse and berate the squatter, he allowed the prototype fighter to stay and took the fugitive technician under his wing, giving him an impromptu home.

Fortunately for both parties, money was not an issue. Saz had pilfered enough credits and belongings from the officer's quarters on the Maw Installation that Modo's garage could remain perpetually closed during the work on the ship and due to Saz's tinkering nature, repairs were not the only thing going on in the garage. With his credits and his technology, coupled with Modo's resources and practical knowhow, the prototype ship was given enhancements and modifications that added the fighter's already lethal profile. An upgraded hyperdrive gave the ship longer range and the ability to traverse the galaxy in a much quicker time, something crucial since she was a fighter and not designed to ferry passengers for weeks on end. To compensate for her small storage capacity, two Conformal Storage Modules, or CSMs, were fabricated and integrated on her dorsal surface between the two missile pods and the stabilizer fin behind the cockpit. With little regard to the Empire's secrets, Saz worked with Modo on altering the beam weapon of the craft to not only lock targets in place, but to repulse objects and disperse tractor beams. The latter function would be very handy for Saz's evasion of Empire warships.

Modo even helped finish integrating N4 into the ship, despite the droids insistence that it be put back into a body similar to the one it lost on the Maw Installation. Feeling he still needed the help, and trying to keep together all of the remnants of his time with Alexis, Saz opted to retain the unorthodox configuration of a droid AI permanently absorbed into a fighter.

The most important and consuming modification was the stygian-triprismatic polymer technology that Saz had been refining since his time on the Maw. The technology involved was lost on a gearhead like Modo, but even he understood the importance of it. Saz wanted to disappear from the Empire. He wanted a ship that was invisible to sensors. With the Empire still searching the galaxy for him, this was the area that consumed most of Saz's time and energy, though he could never find the exact formula he wanted and continued to tweak the coating, despite the fact that his time with Modo was running out.

When the Emperor perished above Endor, it took time for the effects to be felt throughout the galaxy. Even though the ensuing chaos would have given Saz a reprieve, news did not travel fast enough to save his mentor from a group of Imperial spies that had tracked Saz down to the station. After performing surveillance on the station for some time, tipped off by reports of a strange ship with Imperial markings being seen by locals, the spies initiated a covert operation to reclaim the ship and the wayward research technician. After abducting Modo on a routine shopping trip, they marched him into the garage where Saz was busy working on the ship, and unceremoniously shot him in the back in front of the young man.

It was a horrific end to a fruitful era in the life of the technician.

Saz did not remember much about the ensuing firefight. He remembered that he had only barely scrambled into the cockpit of the fighter, firing away with the blaster he had taken from the research station, but everything else was a flurry of sound and light, lit by the burning in his chest at seeing the motionless body of Modo lying across a dried grease stain on the floor of the bay. While superficially trained in combat from the Academy many years before, he was no match for the highly trained assassins. It was only assistance from N4, who used the ship to spray blaster fire into the repair bay, which allowed Saz to escape the fight.

The fighter burst from the garage he had called home for months, speeding away from the station and straight towards a task force of Imperial ships sent to capture him. Saz had learned enough of the ship to fly her now, but the overwhelming force closed in around him and he had been caught in a tractor beam.

Modo's modifications saved him as the beam weapon dispersed the tractor beam, and a barrage of missiles and torpedoes from an enraged Saz tore apart the surprised fleet. The sheer firepower of the ship was the primary reason for its obscurity, and after expending nearly his entire payload, Saz was able to speed through the damaged cruisers and flailing fighters, using his SLAM motors to get clear of the interdictor attached to the force and escape into hyperspace.

Having lost yet another important person to him, Saz was victim to his emotions and without a home once more. He had left behind nearly all of his credits and the man that had shown him kindness in his darkest hours. All he had left was his research, his integrated droid companion and a ship with no name, which sent him once more into despair.

Having studied the area in the months with Modo, Saz had discovered the Nespis sytem. The asteroid field would offer him a measure of security to any pursuing forces and it was already programmed into his flight computer as an escape route, so when the ship came out of hyperspace, it immediately disappeared into the asteroids. Saz had little other plans but to try and find a rogue pirate base or some other haven in the chaotic expanse of planetoids, but what he really sought was isolation. Modo had been killed because of his presence. With the Empire at his heels, he would not be able to find another home like Modo's garage.

A perfect hiding place presented itself in an abandoned space station lingering deep within the asteroids. Coming across it by sheer chance, Saz did not hesitate to fly into the only remaining structure left of the base, a dilapidated hangar that was just big enough to accommodate the ship.

Once inside, Saz had to put on an environmental suit to move around the hangar, finding no power or atmosphere left in the ancient structure. He had long since been running on pure instinct and did not allow a moment to let his emotions catch up with him. With a bit of Modo's ingenuity, he managed to close the mechanical doors on the hangar, hiding himself from the outside. He found a reactor and managed to get it working just enough to restore gravity, lighting and heat. Several more hours afforded him atmosphere and several other supplementary systems, and his new base became livable.

Stripping his environmental suit, Saz collapsed on the floor of the hangar, physically and emotionally exhausted from his escape. It felt very much like his first meeting with Modo, which racked him with guilt and sorrow. "I'm sorry, old man," he cried, pressing his hands against his face as he struggled to cope with the new loss.

On an isolated, defunct station in the middle of a chaotic asteroid belt, Saz christened his new home and promised that he would not allow anyone else to suffer the same fate as Modo. He would remain alone, and commit himself to finishing his research on the technology that would allow him to disappear from the galaxy. Only after he disappeared could he be free, and he could finally bring himself to naming the ship like he had promised to Alexis.


	13. Chapter 12

XII

Master Xerros found Aveyla barely conscious on the floor of his library, with dark side energies seeping out of her like a plague. The tremor in the Force had brought him quickly towards the enclave, with his suspicions already in full bloom as to what would have caused such an outburst. With her current condition, his greatest fear was realized. "Youngling! What have you done?" cried the translator, echoing the melodic tones spurting from his tentacle jaws.

Aveyla was barely moving and looked up to him, the toll of the dark side heavily upon her. "Master…" she said, being the only word she could muster.

Xerros looked frantically back to the room that held the holocron, sensing residual tremors still filling the area. He had studied the object for years and was never able to learn its secrets, yet an untrained child had been able to unlock its power. It made his blood boil in anger. "What did you see? What did you learn? Who is the Sith Lord who created it?" his pendant cried as he knelt next to her, grabbing her shoulders roughly and pulling her up to him.

"He…Malgus," she said weakly, not noticing the rage in his eyes.

"Darth Malgus," he repeated, letting his eyes wander to the artifact. It spurred his desire to know the contents of the holocron even more, despite the expectation that a Jedi Master was not tempted by such things. Despite expectations, Xerros had a dark secret. He had been tainted by the dark side in his isolation and was trying to unlock the mysteries of the Sith in a bid to appeal to an Emperor that had already perished. His desire to preserve the Jedi way through artifacts had been perverted in his exile, becoming a hoarding desire to devour anything that came near him. Bathed in the dark side culled from his relics, he would use them as a dowry to buy his safety with the Sith. This had been his most recent plan, until Sheon had brought the youngling to his sanctuary and threatened it all.

Renewed by the name, Xerros handled her even more roughly, his eyes becoming frantic. "Tell me what secrets you have learned! What has the Dark Lord revealed to you?" wailed his translator.

"Master, you're hurting me," Aveyla cried, the pain caused by his hands making her mind clearer.

The plea made him hesitate, for he had never really given in to his dark urges before and had still retained some of his dignity as a Jedi Master, however his jostling of her had loosened her robes and her bared skin fueled a new dark urge within him, one that caused him to begin molesting her in a much different way. His isolation had degraded him in much more carnal ways than his alignment to the Force.

Aveyla was suddenly thrust back into her time on Nar Shaddaa and his furious touch on her body made her cry out even more, pleading for him to stop. There was no logic in a Jedi Master acting such a way and she tried as she might to resist him, but his strength was too great and his madness to potent.

"Give yourself to me, youngling. Give me your body and your mind, and we shall oppose the Sith in a new manner, standing on equal ground as a true master and apprentice," buzzed his pendant and his eyes were wild with darkness. No matter how much she resisted him, he continued to tear her robes from her, groping her body and violating her mind. Already weakened and more fearful than ever, Aveyla desperately wished Sheon would appear and save her from this fallen Jedi Master, but there was no one on the entirety of Ruusan that knew they were there, nor did a single heartfelt being know to come and save the young woman.

Her pleas ringing loudly in her own ears and her heart on the edge of destruction, Aveyla felt a power surge within her, though it was not of her own accord. Her eyes soaked red with energy, a powerful burst of Force energy whipped from her body and threw Xerros back against a stone wall, his eyes wild with shock. The young woman was floating above the ground, her posture cruel and terrifying, and her crimson eyes were locked on him, unyielding and malicious. An unseen force seized the Jedi Master by the throat with such force that the pendant around his neck shattered, leaving only his gasping breaths escaping from his tentacle jaws. Relics and stones were violently circling her, thrashing and destroying everything in sight. The very walls and ceiling were crumbling, shattered by the fury of the woman.

The potent Force Maelstrom had all but destroyed the sanctuary of Xerros, and it was a wild and terrible thing. With the Jedi Master gargling and struggling, the whirlwind of stone and tome consumed him, crushing him and burying him in the very dowry he had wished to buy his freedom with. The death of the Master signaled a reduction of the storm's fury, with the destroyed sanctuary nothing more than a catacomb of lost knowledge and denied salvation.

In the middle of the chaos, Aveyla floated back to the ground and her red eyes started at the bloody hand of Xerros sticking from the rubble, her face scowling in utter disgust. "Foolish Jedi," said a voice tainted by malice and hate, resonating with tones from beyond.

In an instant, the aura of darkness that had seized her dispersed and Aveyla fell to her knees, coughing and staring downwards at the only unobstructed patch of floor left in the sanctuary. Her last memory was of Xerros and his frightening assault, but upon looking up, she found his hand and gasped. A part of her realized she was to blame, but she had no memory of what happened.

Struck by fear and hysterical, she fled from the sanctuary as quickly as she could, running back to her room. Her tattered robes felt dirty and smelled of the man, so she stripped herself of them and fell upon herself in the corner of her room, weeping wildly. Once again with nothing, she thought of Sheon and what she would say. Murdering a Jedi Master was no small offense, even in such terrible times, but she convinced herself that the Jedi Knight would understand her and help her with this terrible influence that had taken residence in her heart. Without the salvation of Sheon, she would have been consumed by her guilt.

Taking little with her, she claimed Xerros's shuttle and made ready to flee the planet. He had taught her its basic operation, in case of an emergency, and she managed to get the ship into space and away from the site where terror had taken her. Not knowing where to go to even look for Sheon, she found herself trying to plot a course to Nar Shaddaa, the only place she knew the Jedi had been. Deep inside, she did not want to return, but she was willing to risk it just to find her beloved mentor.

The chance would not come. Before she could even figure out the hyperdrive, a ship came from the other side of the planet and quickly caught up the shuttle. With her pilot inexperienced and afraid, the shuttle was quickly overwhelmed and disabled, then brought into the much larger cruiser like a beast swallowing its prey. There were no markings and no indication why the ship had been in the area. Without hesitation, the cruiser disappeared into hyperspace, its captive safely inside.

With her lightsaber in hand, Aveyla shakily walked out into the bay of the cruiser. She was exhausted and did not know who had suddenly abducted her. The belly of the cruiser was empty and silent, except for the hum of the engines. The silence terrified her.

"Who's there? What do you want?" she cried weakly, trying to handle her weapon as her masters had taught her. She felt clumsy with it, and imagined it would do her little good in a fight. A small part of her was hoping that the same terrible force that had killed Xerros would save her from any danger that might be waiting in the dark, but she was also deathly afraid of it. She felt as much as a victim of the power as Xerros.

A whisper of sound had clued her into the presence of another, but it came a moment too late. A burst of energy ripped through her body and she collapsed, her lightsaber falling uselessly to the floor. From the shadows of the bay, two figures approached her, one holding a staff that was still pulsing with the energy that had stunned her.

With her capture completed, the two figures loomed over her, pleased with their success. "Do you see what I see? Is this a Jedi? This trip wasn't such a waste after all," said the first, returning the staff back to their side.

"Not much resistance for a Jedi. Maybe just a foolish kid who found a stash of ancient relics. Ruusan is known for that, you know," suggested the other, reaching down and picking up the lightsaber.

"In either case, she's quite the prize. I'll bet the Captain will reward us handsomely for her. He'll just eat this young thing up," replied the first, grinning with rotten teeth, "Throw her in the containment cell and instruct the crew to steer clear of her. If she is a Jedi, we don't need any accidents until we get a penalty collar on her."

Aveyla was dragged to an isolated part of the ship and locked up, unaware of her new fate. The cruiser was taking her to a volatile part of space, heavy with smuggling and slavery, not associated with any system or body of government. Although her heart was longing to find Sheon, her body had once again fallen in the company of the cruel and her freedom had been revoked.

She was being taken to the leader of their group, who resided in the heart of the volatile region on his powerful warship, the _Affluent._


	14. Chapter 13

XIII

The Shed, as Saz came to call his new home, was a welcome convalescence chamber for the emotionally distraught technician. For the better part of a year, he rarely left the place, only daring to expose himself to buy supplies and materials to finish his research and modifications on the fighter. Modo's storage pods enhanced the ship, making it possible to ferry enough food and materials to the Shed to keep Saz undisturbed for weeks on end. The research he sought to finish was painstakingly slow. The lack of credits and fear of encountering another Imperial ambush drove Saz on the brink of starvation. It began to effect his research, drawing out the processes even longer, which drove a vicious circle of sleep-deprivation and malnutrition which would have led to his demise, had it not been for his mechanical companion N4 pressing the human to attend to his basic organic needs.

With his research stalled and his health in danger, Saz was convinced to look for ways to earn credits. This led him to search nearby colonies and space stations for any odd job that might both pay the bills and keep Imperial attention safely away. The first jobs he performed were barely worth the fuel he expended to complete them, such as ferrying goods between merchants or towing a foul barge full of garbage from one moon to another. It was a fate hardly befitting such a technically advanced fighter.

Needing to find more lucrative work, he tried his first seek-and-destroy mission, finding his abhorrence to killing someone for money waned when his stomach was empty or his research had ground to a halt. Saz scrutinized the target as much as he could, convinced that he was doing the galaxy a favor for taking out an infamous slaver and thief, but he still found himself hesitating when it came time to fire on his ship. When the thug turned and began to fire on him, Saz found it much easier to destroy the man with only one missile from his Missile Boat.

When the payment filled his belly and gave him enough money to start experimenting once more, he found it easier to justify taking the next lucrative mission.

With resources from the more dangerous employment, Saz's research went into overdrive and moved closer and closer to success. He also gained a reputation among other bounty hunters and smugglers for being able to accomplish the most perilous missions due to his powerful ship. He rarely took a job that would take him from the cockpit of his ship, for he knew without the advantage that it afforded, he would be much more likely to get killed. He was armed with a modified DC-15s and an experimental hybrid blaster-slugthrower rifle, both taken with him from the research centers on the Maw Installation and his combat skills were slowly being honed by the types of jobs he applied for, but he always took jobs that could be accomplished at the helm of his craft.

His reputation also afforded him what would be the most important contact he would ever make, when he was sought out by Utility. This covert organization made barely a sound in the roaring of the galaxy, yet had contracts with some of the most notorious figures ever to earn a credit or two. It was not a guild, nor did it have any physical location. It did not directly contract work, but rather was a mouthpiece, or a way to network solicitations throughout the known worlds. If the customer was worthy and the price was right, the organization would contact those that were qualified and inform them of the charge. If the contact took the job and completed it as required, Utility took a small percentage. If the job was declined, there was no further involvement by any party. Because of the passive arrangement of the group, most guilds did not pay much attention to them, for Utility's contacts were interwoven in every profession in the galaxy, yet were only contacted for very specific jobs that may not have been published anywhere else. Saz's work for Utility afforded him more credits than he had brought with him from the Maw, making money the least of his concerns. Due to his ship, he could perform jobs very few others could, like carrying secret information between the most powerful corporations in the Outer Rim, or assaulting an entire fleet just to eliminate one single warlord. It allowed him to spend more time at the Shed and less time exposed to the galaxy, though with the death of the Emperor and the chaos it caused in the Empire, his existence became much less of an issue to the Imperial Navy and he was able to move about with much greater ease than before.

With an overall lull in the chaos in his life and the resources he needed finally at his disposal, Saz was finally able to perfect his variation of the coating he had been working on. Not only did it improve the overall reduction of a ship's sensor profile, but it also slightly enhanced the durability of the hull. To purchase the materials, Saz continued performing jobs around the area, including some from Utility, until he had at last had all the necessary components and time to put the pinnacle modification on his Missile Boat.

The ship was now a deep black color, its hull seeming to absorb the very light around it. It had taken a week to apply the polymer, with Saz painstakingly coating each hull plate at a time, making sure the skin was flawless and that no element would compromise the invisibility the coating would afford. Saz had scrutinized every section, checking and rechecking, until at last he was satisfied and he sat across the ship, looking over it with smudges and smears all over his body and clothes. He reeked of chemicals and sweat and his body was aching from the endeavor.

It was all worth it. He now had a ship unlike any other in the galaxy.

"Technician, I have performed diagnostics on the ship and all systems are within normal constraints. There is an abnormal sensor characteristic lingering at the peripherals of the array. Is this an effect of your new coating technology?" N4 asked, his mechanical voice coming from the newly integrated interface Saz had implanted on his wrist.

Saz had already been scratching at the skin around the interface, but his eyes never left the ship. "I wouldn't worry about it, N4, but you'll probably have to get used to it. The ship absorbs sensor signals, including your own. You'll have to rely on system instrumentation and diagnostics to keep a status on the ship," he replied.

N4 was computing, getting used to the new sensor profile. "Technician, now that you have completed the modification you desired, will you now give the ship a name, as you have intended?" N4 asked.

Saz was silent. He continued staring at the ship with heavy eyes and a drooping posture. His promise to Alexis had been eating away at his concentration during the entire process, with the milestone looming over him like a death sentence. Even now, with Alexis's ID card hanging from his bruised hand, he was having a hard time bringing the project to a close. His promise had been the driving force in his life since his escape, and he did not know how he would react once he did not have that purpose.

Another part of him was furious with himself for being such a coward and demeaning both his memory of Alexis and the ship that had done so much for him. His hand clenching around the ID card, his eyes closed and he thought of his lover, a bitter smile coming over his face. "The _Peripheral Muse,_" he said quietly, settling on the name that adequately paid tribute to both the ship and her namesake. His eyes slowly opened and looked upon the ship with a new level of affection.

"Her name is _Peripheral Muse_," he repeated.

He thought Alexis would like the name, which was beautiful and strong, just like she was. It had been almost two years since Alexis had died, but his thoughts of her were no less potent. She existed now more as an ideal to him, rather than a person, but he could not bring himself to forget every feature on her face or her smell and touch. The ship became the physical representation of her, something he could feel with his skin and smell with his nose. He would keep her ID badge hanging in the cockpit, just to feel as if their dreams had come true and they were free to fly the depths of the galaxy; together just as they had planned.

While never curing him of the nights he woke in a cold sweat, with an empty space in the bed next to him, the ship did fill an empty space in his heart and gave him something to care for, with the same name as the woman he had longed to spend the rest of his life with.

With the new coating, the capabilities of the fighter had propelled Saz into the realm of near omnipotence, with him able to perform even the most challenging tasks with a level of impunity that would have driven most insane or to tyranny. As he had no ambitions to conquer the galaxy, or even seek out a cause greater than himself, his work became his purpose and he simply continued taking odd jobs as a way to pass his time, though he was able to scrutinize his jobs even more and only take ones that met with his personal code of conduct.

His favorite jobs were reconnaissance. Often times he would sit in the middle of a fleet, sometimes even an Imperial Fleet, and monitor transmissions or record ship movements. Often times, it was the New Republic that paid him well for his information. His dealings with the New Republic were sometimes strained as some in the new order saw Saz as only a remnant of the old Imperial war machine. If they had knowledge of the obscure fighter, they saw it as something was paid for by the blood of billions of innocent people. These individuals also coveted his ship and his knowledge, with some even making attempts to confiscate both for the good of the new government. While Saz understood these few did not represent the whole of the new order, he kept a professional distance from the New Republic and did not have ambitions to join their Research and Development environment, as was offered to him on multiple occasions.

The heightened reputation and enhanced capabilities the _Peripheral Muse _also brought about a new arrangement with his sponsor, Utility. After accomplishing some of the most challenging missions they had to offer and adhering to a strict code of conduct which they never spelled out to him, Saz was made an 'Exclusive Contact' within the organization. There was no ceremony or event. He received no special insignia. There was only a single transmission informing him of the arrangement, though he had very little understanding what it meant. His understanding came through the realization that the new jobs offered to him were not like anything he had done before. While his previous contracts paid well, a single job as an Exclusive Contact in Utility was enough to pay his bills for a year, even with expensive maintenance on his advanced ship. While he continued to perform smaller jobs around the area, sometimes without taking pay for a noble cause, his contracts with Utility were always a priority, and he made a great deal of money in just a short time as an Exclusive Contact.

One notorious contract that every Exclusive Contact knew was an open bounty posted by Utility itself. It was for capture only, with a kill on the mark enough to cause instant suspension of any activity with Utility. Specific instructions were provided on how to contact the organization and a set of coordinates to rendezvous for exchange. It was bizarre for Utility itself to set a contract and designate a physical location, which caused Saz to give in to curiosity and see what Utility might look like. The coordinates were empty space and there was no sign of anything at the rendezvous point, furthering the mystery behind the contract. Another extraordinary aspect was the amount offered for the mark, which was ten times the normal amount for an Exclusive contract. It was on the minds of every Exclusive Contact with the organization, but no one had ever been able to fulfill it.

The name of the mark was Aveyla Rom.

There was surprisingly detailed information on the mark, which was far more interesting than the mark herself. She was a Force-sensitive Twi'lek, possibly a Jedi, and she spent most of her life as a slave, jumping between masters because of mishaps due to her strange powers. Most recently, she had been on Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa, then abruptly disappeared from her owner on the Smuggler's Moon. After her disappearance, several parties made inquiries about her and a standard bounty was offered, but only after time had passed did Utility suddenly take interest in her, going against its creed and posting a direct contract only to their most trusted associates.

Saz, like most others, made inquires and kept his eyes open for the mark, yet was able to find nothing over the course of a year. His other work occupied his time and only in passing did he ever consider searching for the woman, for no one could find her and the reasons behind the contract made most wary.

Gradually, the lingering contract intrigued Saz more and more. His usual contact list of bounty hunters and slavers were void of information, which led him to be even more interested. Soon enough, his desire to find this mark became the primary driver in his work, if only to accomplish something that no one else could.

After a year of searching, Saz finally found the smallest bit of information about a Twi'lek woman with strange powers living as a slave to a warlord deep in a volatile region of space. His contact told him that only a fool would attempt to go into a rancor's den to get a toenail, but Saz's ego had been inflated and he considered no pirate fleet powerful enough to threaten him. He had just outfitted the _Muse_ with enhanced ordinance and performed system upgrades that increased N4's capabilities, among other standard maintenance on the stealth coating and engines. He was as ready as he would ever be to try for Utility's prize contract.

For his own sense of accomplishment and to satisfy what was his current purpose in life, he would enter a volatile area of space, assault the pirate fleet and capture Aveyla Rom.


	15. Chapter 14

XIV

A Jedi on a leash was a prized possession for any pirate to have. Toropu, a Quarren captain with an entire fleet of virulent warships allied to him, was very pleased with the one that had been brought before him. Aveyla became the crowning piece of his collection of slaves and servants. Not only was she a Jedi, but she was beautiful as well. Her mannerisms indicated she had already been enslaved sometime in her life, which made it easier to subdue her, but as a measure of control a collar was put around her neck that could be activated by any of his crew, and it would send such a shock of pain through her that prolonged use would possibly kill her. While she was defiant at first, months of seclusion and repeated uses of the collar had reverted Aveyla into the quiet, introverted child that Sheon had found on Nar Shaddaa.

Rowdy parties on the pirate's flagship, the _Affluent_, were a common thing. The whole fleet pillaged random ships or convoys, but also raided nearby systems and generally was a notorious menace to that part of the galaxy. Due to a thin presence of Imperial and New Republic authorities, the group acted with a large degree of freedom, which afforded them ships and equipment that were unrivaled in the area. Toropu rewarded his crew lavishly and punished them violently, which assured that he remained at the head of his organization despite his chaotic profession. Even his Jedi slave was shared with the fleet, as long as they dared to risk bodily harm by getting too close to her. Even with her restraints, Aveyla made use of her training and had seriously injured many of Toropu's crew, though the months and months of confinement were beginning to wear down her defenses and the frequency pirates thrown across the room or being choked by an invisible hand slowly waned. It became more of a game with the crew, with each ruffian seeing how much they could get away with before being slammed against a bulkhead, which would then earn the woman a shock from her collar. Some reacted with disoriented laughter, while others fumed with anger and revenge, but none were ever to seriously harm the slave, on orders from Toropu. He watched with the utmost pleasure as she came closer and closer to breaking, waiting for the day where she give up and be ravaged by the crew.

Aveyla's restraints were not only a collar around her neck. With the training she received and the power she possessed, she could have easily decimated her captors and tried to escape, but there was something else that drove her back to a shadow of herself.

She was afraid.

The memory of Xerros's fate made her fear her own power, though she also feared that there was another power harbored somewhere in her heart. While the revulsion at being touched and molested by the pirates made her utilize the Force in defense, she held back her anger and desire to have revenge upon them. Every time she felt the anger well inside of her, she felt the black spot in her heart become stronger and the same power that had killed her Jedi Master threatened to overtake her. Despite knowing it would earn her freedom and justice for her captors, she fought it desperately.

Losing herself to that power was a worse fate than the one she suffered under Toropu, for she felt once she gave into it, she would never be able to face Sheon again. So she endured, fighting with herself and with the pirates, unsure how she would ever break free of her chains and whether she would someday tear down the ship around them.

It was a dark time for her.

* * *

Sitting a short distance away and looking out over the pirate fleet, Saz was cradling his chin in the cockpit of the _Peripheral Muse. _It was possibly the largest fleet he had dared to assault. Despite the fact it was made up of older ships, he recognized the upgraded gun turrets and fighter patrols, which told him that the captain of the group invested his money into keeping his teeth sharp, which was certainly the primary reason that he could still operate in such a lawless region.

Even with the impressive upgrades to their ships, Saz had remained in the area undetected for hours as he observed the movements and transmissions of the fleet. It was a testament to his own teeth. "Technician, I have calculated the possibility that the organic Aveyla Rom is present on the capital ship as seventy-three percent. I have also calculated a successful direct assault on a fleet of this size at thirty percent," said N4 over the speakers in the cockpit.

"Thirty percent, huh?" Saz repeated, looking exhaustively at the Star Destroyer _Affluent_. It was the challenge, for even though it was an older design, it was still potent and the assault required him to infiltrate the ship on foot, something he never liked to do. Still, the reward was worth the risk and Saz had already been thinking about how to proceed. "N4, I already have a plan, but it requires you to be able to fly around by yourself and not crash into a planet or something," Saz said, sitting up straight and running a last system check on his ship.

N4 was silent a moment. "Technician, the chances of impacting a planet in this area are statistically impossible. Your attempt at making humor at the expense of my navigating capabilities does not seem fitting for the situation," it replied.

"Just trying to expand your programming, buddy," Saz said with a smile, working on a computer terminal at his right hand, "Can you do this?"

N4 processed the flight plan and details input into the terminal. "Technician, I have amended the chances of success to seventy-two percent, provided an adequate distraction can be provided to instigate this course of action," it said plainly.

Saz smiled and checked his sidearm, the pushed it back into its holster. "Don't worry. With a Venatorlike that, I think I have a good idea," he said and prepared to put his plan to capture Aveyla Rom into motion.

On the bridge of the _Affluent, _Captain Toropu was sitting his command chair and staring out over empty space. His bridge crew was mindlessly talking about trivial things, which included the recent attempts to subdue the Jedi slave in Toropu's grasp. The subject made the Quarren sneer at the thought of breaking the Jedi and the pleasures that would follow, but he was a very patient man and enjoyed the process just as much as the payment. Waiting would make that day all the more gratifying.

"Captain Toropu, we've detected a ship nearby," one of his crew said, bringing him from his daze.

"Be more specific, you lug. What kind of ship," Toropu said, looking from the man to the empty space out his front window.

The man did not answer, which drew a sharp glance from his commander. "I'm sorry, but it's not there anymore. There was a small ship, but then it disappeared," he said reluctantly, obviously not wanting to earn the ire of his captain.

Toropu slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair, glaring furiously at the man. "Don't report to me on sensor ghosts! If there was a ship out there, you would see it!" he roared.

"Sir!" said another member of his crew, "I'm also detecting a ship out there." By the time Toropu even looked over at the new claim, the ship had disappeared from the sensors.

Over the course of a few minutes, the ghost ship appeared and disappeared off the sensors and several other cruisers in the fleet also reported the ship, though no one could verify it visually or maintain a lock.

Toropu was silent. He sat looking out into the blackness of space, trying to analyze the situation. While he was normally patient, the proximity and frequency of the contacts made him agitated and that caused him to appear out of control of the situation, something he did not like. He continued to look out of the breadth of windows, despite the fact they did not show him anything. "Send out a fighter patrol," he ordered.

After the pilots were scrambled, the long bow doors of the _Affluent_ began to open in preparation to launch Toropu's fighters. Having a couple of squadrons of agile fighters had always been one of Toropu's advantages over his enemies and he thoroughly enjoyed watching his ship break open to release them into the fray. He had even risen from his chair and approached the windows to see his ship open its massive jaws, a gratified look in his eyes.

Before a single fighter could even leave the flight deck, a torpedo materialized out of nowhere and rocked the launch bays with a huge explosion, nearly sending Toropu into the pit crew beside him. The whole ship shuddered at the explosion and nearly half of the fighters were lost. By the time Toropu had regained his footing and glared out the window, two other ships in his fleet were being lit by explosions. He was aghast. "Launch fighters! Target the enemy! Bring the cannons on line!" he was howling, but despite the fact his crew was working frantically to obey, nothing was happening on the outside of the ship.

"Sir! We don't detect any enemy ships!" one of his crew yelled.

Toropu was furious, berating the woman for not being able to see an attack when it was destroying the ship around them, yet another explosion tore into the ship and power fluttered. It only enraged the Quarren more.

While fighters had finally escaped the gored launch bay and were frantically searching for a target, not one ship in the fleet could find the source of the destruction, despite the net of sensors strewn all about. More and more destruction rained down as missiles destroyed fighters and laser-fire strafed a smaller corvette, but it was only when one of the cruisers began to fire randomly into space did ships bear fire on other ships. Toropu's fleet began to fire on itself, either out of fear of betrayal or simply because they were panicked by the assault. Chaos erupted, but a carefully crafted plan was already in effect.

Near a docking bay on the _Affluent_, Saz was pressed against a wall as the ship was being rocked all around him, watching frantic pirates running through the hallways. His plan, thus far, had been working fine, though the Star Destroyer was being tossed about more than he had anticipated. "Hey! Watch that friendly fire!" he howled into his interface, scolding N4 for attacking the capital ship while he was on board.

"Technician, I have not fired upon the primary since you boarded. Other ships within the fleet are firing on one another, including the one you are on. Perhaps this was not such a good idea," said a crackling voice over his interface.

Still reluctant and stiff, Saz had not moved from his place mostly because he did not know if the next part of his plan was going to work. The ship was rocked once more and nearly threw him to the decks, which was motivating him more and more to get moving. "Not really the best part of my plan, but too late to stop now! Keep up the diversion, N4!" he yelled and dashed into the hallways where hundreds of pirates were flowing through the ship to try and mediate the conflict.

In the chaos, no one paid much attention to Saz. As he was dressed in unremarkable clothing and was armed like any other pirate, he was mistaken for a member of the crew, even ordered several times to get to his station. With his heart racing and his blaster holstered, he navigated the damaged ship in his search for the Jedi.

Outside the ship, a battle of misconception raged on. Being invisible to the surrounding fleet, the _Peripheral Muse _pierced the breaking lines of ships, firing her weapons randomly not to attack, but to confuse. Some other commanders thought their allies would attack them, which only fueled on the conflict and despite the fact Toropu was trying to get control on the situation, he also found himself firing on several ships, if only to save his own.

The search for Aveyla Rom took longer than anticipated. There were too many things that could happen if the fighting died down or if the ship was damaged too much, so time was his greatest enemy. While familiar with the layout of that class of ship, it was nearly impossible to recall the schematics while running on damaged decks and adrenaline. Reality was a harsher opponent than study.

When he finally came across the holding cells, Saz was drenched with sweat and already fighting a desire to abandon the mission and escape the ship. His blaster in hand and a stun grenade in the other, he slowly walked through the cell block, looking in each cell for something that resembled the data he had been sent from Utility. Most cells were empty, while some had wild prisoners and defiant crew members.

Coming upon an occupied cell, he found a young Twi'lek woman slumped against the corner, her eyes open and her hand pressed securely against the wall, as if to feel the throes of the ship with her flesh. While the inside of the ship was bedlam, she appeared displaced from it all and almost welcoming the destruction. The look on her face fascinated Saz, for he had never seen such despair before. He had also never seen such an exotically beautiful woman.

"Hey! Are you Aveyla Rom!?" he yelled at her, trying to get a good look at her face. She did not respond, despite a tremor at the sound of her own name. Her masters never learned her name, which was by merit of a slave's existence, so hearing it called to her disturbed her strange complacency.

Saz could not wait for her to answer and snorted, aiming at the control panel for the cell and destroying it with a single shot. "Twi'lek, female, purple. It works for me," he said to himself and took a defensive stance, remembering she was reported as possibly a Jedi. "Come with me and I'll get you out of here," he called to her, though his blaster was kept trained on her.

Finally her eyes moved, shifting over to the alien figure calling to her in the chaos. After her months of torture at the hands of Toropu, she had welcomed the destruction that was going on around her. To be consumed with the ship would have been an acceptable fate to her, yet some stranger had come with a blaster and intent, neither of which she wanted. Her progression among owners and masters had defined most of her life and she had grown tired of it, her resolve nearly gone. Had she been kept much longer, subject to the foul smiles and rough hands of the pirates, she might have simply given in to her dark urges and let her power destroy everything around her. There was only a single thought that kept her going, and it was finding one of the very few to ever show her true kindness.

A thought of Sheon spurred her into action.

A sudden force threw Saz against the wall of the cell block and he grunted in surprise, nearly dropping his blaster and grenade. Aveyla was on the move, rushing past him and headed to wherever she could find a ship. She said nothing, nor wanted anything from the stranger, but such a chance would not come again and she knew she had to escape, even if she did not know to where to go.

Saz regained his bearings quickly and looked at the empty cell, then cursed his luck. He did not have time to chase around a rogue Jedi on a slowly exploding ship, so he was quick to run out after her, not knowing what to expect. The Twi'lek woman was trapped at the end of the passageway where debris had blocked the path, so when Saz rushed out he let out a yell of surprise. She was not more than five meters away, yet she looked disoriented and weak, as though she had none of the power renowned to Jedi.

Saz pointed his blaster at her. As if feeling his presence, she slowly turned her head to look at him and the utter apathy in her eyes once again gave Saz a moment of awe. Dark shadows bathed her figure in an ominous light and her tranquil posture sent a shiver down his back. Almost an eternity passed between them, bound by mere seconds before the ship was once again twisted by battle, bringing Saz from his daze.

Without a word, he tossed the stun grenade and spun back into the cell block to be spared of its effect. The hallway pulsed with a bright light, and then was silent.

Peaking out, blaster first, Saz found the woman in a heap on the floor, unconscious and limp. He expected not even a Jedi could deny the affects of a stun grenade, but still approached her reluctantly and with his weapon firmly aimed. After checking her and making sure she was incapacitated, he found himself looking over her face, which was beautiful, but sad. It made him linger a moment, before finally shaking it off and throwing her over his shoulders.

"So light…" he remarked, feeling her soft skin under his touch and the lack of her resistance. While visibly enamored with her, he could not allow such a distraction when his escape would be twice as difficult as his approach. With his captive in tow, the pirates would be sure to notice him. That fact was compounded by the extra baggage in his hands, but he now knew the way back to the extraction point.

For some reason, he felt stronger and faster than before, and he was more confident that he could accomplish his task. He did not know where the sudden boost came from.

"N4," Saz said into his interface, "Meet me at the dock. I'm on my way."


	16. Chapter 15

XV

Aveyla awoke in a slow, sluggish manner. The shock of forced sedation had become uneasily familiar to her and she did not feel the usual fear of waking up in a strange new place. Her figure slumped and her hand on her forehead, she tried to focus her eyes and her breathing, not paying attention to the strange sounds or smells around her. Her time in Toropu's possession had dulled her sense of time and she barely remembered the trauma associated with her departure, for she assumed whoever took her would be no different and her new surroundings were merely a cell of a different color.

Slowly, her senses began to adjust.

There was a rough, warm blanket draped over her and the bedding she was on was soft. The air was warm, but stale. An aromatic smell filled her nose and her tired eyes fell on a bowl of various foods. It was a strange departure from her usual madness, but the smell of the food and soft bedding aroused her wits, making a tremor run through her stomach loudly.

Rubbing her hand across her emaciated stomach, she flicked her tongue over her dry lips and glanced around the room, which was mostly empty aside from boxes and supplies. Dignity gave away to hunger and she snatched the food, hungrily shoving in her mouth despite the danger it might possess. Toropu's men had barely fed her lately, so the food was greatly welcomed, though due to her weakened state and the speed at which she ate, she choked and nearly heaved the food back onto the deck plates of the room.

"Slow down and take it easy," said a voice, which startled her. She quickly felt defensive and her body tightened, with her eyes falling on Saz, the man who had taken her from Toropu. He stood at a distance, his posture also full of tension and his hand resting on the grip of his blaster. He was looking at her with concern, but he was also wary of her.

Due to exhaustion, but also due to depression, she stayed perched on the bed, the bare skin on her back pressed against the rough, cold metal of the wall. She did not know the man, nor understood why he had taken her. All she knew was pain and betrayal, which made her as dangerous as a cornered animal.

Saz watched her with a mixture of pity and apprehension. While he was concerned with her deteriorated health, he knew nothing about her, including just what Jedi powers she could use on him. He also found himself unconsciously pouring his eyes over her, amazed that a woman could be so beautifully shadowed. The curve of her body and the heaving of her breasts dominated his vision, not to mention the abundance of the lavender skin he could see. While he had always preserved the memory of Alexis, he had been alone in the Shed for a long time and his primal instincts reacted to her primal allure, making him drop his guard ever so slightly.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you so why don't you…" he began, stepping towards her with a relaxed posture, but a sudden gesture from her hand locked an invisible force around his throat, making him gag loudly and grasp at it. Even as he lifted into the air slightly, the toes of his boots barely able to graze the floor, he struggled to fight it, not fully realizing the situation. A dark, sinister look was in her eyes and it seemed displaced from the rest of her, like it was coming from someone just behind her.

Oddly, the look in her eyes also told him she did not want to hurt him. He was confounded by her duality.

Feeling he was not going to be let go by her generous side, Saz struggled to get his hand to his blaster and pulled it to bear on her, trying as best as he could against the onset of unconsciousness. Had he been able to aim properly, he would have shot her in the head, but his aim was shaky and the shot he fired impacted the wall next to her head, making a burst of rust and metal spray into the air and claw her across the cheek and throat, something that broke her trance and made her yelp out loudly. Saz fell to the deck hard and coughed, clutching his throat and trying to fill his lungs with air. He could barely believe he had let his guard down enough to be in that situation.

Inwardly, he berated himself for being careless.

Sitting back and raising his blaster to her again, he found her clutching her bleeding skin, her body collapsed on the bed and her breathing heavier than before. It was if she had been assaulted even more than he had, and now was released in much the same manner. Despite the fact she had lifted him from the deck with a raised hand, he found her looking pathetic and small, like a small girl who feared the dark night. His pity did not allow him to relax this time, but he did revel in the fact that she was so fascinating to him that he was happy he had not turned her over to Utility yet.

He simply had to learn more about her.

"I…don't want to hurt you, but…don't do that again," he hacked, rubbing his neck with his free hand and keeping his sights on her. When she failed to respond and remained motionless on the bed, he struggled to his feet and caught his breath, amazed such a fragile woman could be so powerful. "Is your name Aveyla Rom?" he asked, though was convinced he had the right Jedi Twi'lek slave girl.

Aveyla felt the stinging wounds on her skin and the receding darkness in her heart. Her eyes lingered on the man and the blaster pointed at her head, with a part of her wishing he had not missed. Weak and afraid, she did not answer him at first, curling her body up around her as she lamented her fate. Her despair might have consumed her, until her lithe fingers ran protectively across the nape of her neck and found no collar or chains. The man had removed them, for whatever reason, which meant she could assault him without reprieve.

That small fact gave her hope as she look at him.

Hugging her mostly naked body and relaxing against the dark currents in her heart, she answered him with a single nod, assuming her lost identity. Saz noted her eventual response and relaxed a bit as well. "My name is Saz, and even though I seem to get thumped every time I say this, I'm not going to hurt you. Do you understand?" he said firmly, keeping his eyes locked on her.

Again, she nodded, but nothing more.

Saz took this as a sign that he would not get attacked this time and he slowly lowered his blaster, though kept it in hand. His other hand was still rubbing his throat, as if he could help dispel the crushing sensation that still lingered. "Okay, I hope we have an understanding then. You don't choke me from across the room and I won't shoot you in the face," he said, trying to lighten the mood, though the lack of her response denied him of that.

Still hacking, Saz gestured to the food with his blaster and bobbed his weapon, hoping she would understand and continue eating. He turned from the room and stumbled back towards his ship, figuring his first encounter with a Jedi a success since he was still alive. He collapsed onto a crate and rolled onto his back, coughing and hacking, while resting his blaster across his chest.

"Technician, how did your interview with the organic Aveyla Rom go?" N4 asked from the open cockpit of the ship, its voice echoed from the interface on his wrist.

Saz convulsed and pressed the cold metal of his gun to his forehead, as if to ward the throbbing from his mind. "Great, N4, just great. Everything went great," he groaned, "If I pass out, wake me up if she tries to kill me again."

While the man was obviously trying to recover from the encounter, N4 computed his response and the status of his body signals. It was an obvious contradiction.

Once more, the droid was befuddled. "I'll never understand organics," it said.

* * *

For the next several days, the atmosphere in the Shed was tense. Aveyla remained in the storage bay, silent and displaced as she regained her strength. After their first encounter, Saz only entered the room to bring her food and water, and he carried his blaster at his side each time. As he went about his business keeping the base in working order, he would only hear her moving to use the toilet, though soon afterwards she would quickly return to the storage bay and then fall silent once more. While it was strange to have a visitor, it was as if she was not even there, so he could barely tell the difference.

Aveyla did not know what the man wanted from her. Whenever she passed to a new master, she would almost immediately begin serving them, yet he had not requested a single thing from her. It was strange. A part of her felt guilty for attacking him and that he was giving her food and water without demanding anything in return, but her defenses were still lingering from her enslavement to Toropu and the fate of Master Xerros, which led her to continue avoiding him.

After some time in this arrangement, Aveyla had gotten her strength back and felt a victim to her curiosity. She did not know where they were, whether a station or a ship. It brought her to depart her haven, her coarse blanket clutched around her, to see just where she was and how she might escape.

Her explorations did not take long. She already knew the way to the bathroom and there very few other rooms not sealed off. Moving slowly, she examined every place she found until she came across the hangar where the _Peripheral Muse_ sat. The black ship looked very inviting to her and she saw it as her only way to escape and continue her hunt for Sheon.

Her bare feet padded on the grimy floor quietly as her eyes remained on the ship, but a sudden burst of compressed air startled her and she flung her eyes upwards to an open access hatch. The hatch was quickly filled with the torso of the man who had taken her and he was coughing loudly. Smudges and dirt caked him and he was sweating from the repairs, but he soon realized she was standing there and their eyes met.

Time froze. Saz did not expect her to be out and about. Since he was repairing in the service tunnels, he did not have his blaster and was armed only with his small utility blade. Since she could effortlessly choke from three meters away, he did not feel entirely confident about his chances should she become angry once more.

He stared at her like a man caught in infidelity. "Just so you know, there are ten automated defense turrets aimed at you right now so don't get any funny ideas, Jedi," he hissed.

Aveyla took a step back and looked around for the defense system, her eyes wide with fright. Despite an overwhelming desire to run back to her room, her eyes wandered back up to him and she pulled the blanket around her even tighter, her bottom lip bit in anticipation of his cruel command to open fire and end her life.

Saz barely believed she was the same person who had nearly choked him to death. She appeared like a frightened animal, and her wide eyes and fearful expression accentuated her beauty. Against logic, he felt guilty for lying to her, but also felt intoxicated by her. Her movements were primal and her silence fed the mystery about her. Talking to her even under false duress made his heart race and his hands sweat. It was a strange effect that she had on him.

"Wait right there. If you run away, you'll be gunned down in an instant," he lied once more, then crawled out of the access way and onto the stepladder. Descending to the hangar floor, he immediately walked over and started to put his blaster on, trying to act composed about it but feeling extremely rushed to arm himself. Once he was finally armed, he turned to her, his back against his ship and his hands busy running a rag over them to clean off the grime. "So, Jedi, are you ready talk now?" he asked, trying to convey authority upon her.

Her response was silence, and she was trembling under the blanket. Once more, Saz felt a wave of guilt wash over him and he felt like he was bullying a small girl.

Instead of her voice, a mechanical voice came crackling out from the open cockpit of the ship as N4 decided to join in. "Technician, I was unaware that you installed a turret defense grid in the facility," it said, though the observation drew a hard elbow from the man, who inwardly realized the futility in trying to physically jab an armor-plated warship.

"You're not helping," Saz growled up to the ship.

While he expected the revelation to draw some response from the woman, Aveyla was still in place, clutching the blanket tightly and keeping her eyes fixed on him. Saz found that surprising. "Well, there may not be a defense turret grid but there are electrical restraints built into the floor to restrict the movements of prisoners," he explained, once more plainly lying to her.

"Technician, I was unaware that you…" N4 once again start, but this time Saz cut him off by pressing a button on his interface and cutting the transmission.

"Again not helping," he nearly sung, annoyed at his clueless partner. He quickly looked back to his visitor and found her still anchored to the floor, with the blanket falling further and further over her face, as if she was trying to retreat from him. It made him sigh loudly and tip his hat up, the perplexed look on his face reflecting just how confused he was about her. "Seriously, do you even speak Basic?" he mused, more to himself than to her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked from the depths of her covering.

Saz was shocked. Hearing her voice for the first time gave him a lewd sense of accomplishment and he cocked his head slightly, as if trying to see her now shaded face. "Right now? I'll be satisfied with you not turning me to mush with your crazy Jedi powers," he replied, trying to garner a response from her.

She was silent a moment. "I'm not a Jedi," she said firmly.

Saz froze. Her confession took him completely off guard and he appeared very confused. His information had labeled her as a Jedi, so her admission made him anxious. She picked up on his confusion and trembled slightly at the subject. "I was only trained for a few years. I'm no Jedi," she repeated, fighting to keep the memory of Xerros from her mind.

Saz sighed a bit in relief. "You seem pretty capable to me," he responded, rubbing his throat. She did not reply. "Jedi or not, there are a lot of people who seem to want you. You've got a bounty on you and it's enough to make anyone rich," he explained, watching her for any quick movements or retaliation. Most marks reacted violently when learning they were being turned in for a bounty, so he had told her to see what reaction it brought.

Her silence continued to linger. "Oh," she then replied and turned from him tp head back to her room.

Saz almost called out after her, but remained quiet. Her dull reaction confused him even more and he watched her until she disappeared into the storage bay, then let out a huge breath of relief and leaned back against the ship. Dealing with her left him exhausted, but only because she shattered any expectation he had of her.

"Technician, retaining the organic Aveyla Rom only increases the chance that you will come to harm. I recommend that you turn her over to Utility at the soonest possible opportunity," N4 said, giving him an emotionless return to the reality of his situation.

Saz turned and laid his arms across the ship, resting his chin on them. His mind was a torrent of thought, but his heart was surprisingly lucid about the matter. There was no way to mask the fascination he had for her. "Not yet, N4. I want to keep my eye on her for a little bit longer," he replied, dismissing the merit of danger to continue finding out what expectations of his she could break. The droid was silently processing that information and trying desperately to understand his organic partner. Saz was content to let that confusion linger.

Just as he was about to head back up the stepladder to finish his work, this time keeping his blaster with him, he paused as he tossed a casual question to the ship, "How long do you think it would take to install a laser-turret defense system around here?"

* * *

It took almost three weeks for Aveyla to adequately observe her captor's schedule. There was very little interaction, but she became more and more empowered in exploring her new surroundings. She often padded around the rusted deck plates with her bare feet, quietly searching out every corner and room of the defunct asteroid base, but she was becoming infinitely familiar with it and more comfortable each day. When she was not searching, she was alone in her room, silently meditating and oddly enjoying the solitude that had found her.

Despite this, she was still watching.

Saz was wary of his guest, but he had become accustomed to her presence. He had fallen into routine, with maintenance to the Shed and supply runs dominating his time, but he had not taken a job since rescuing Aveyla. Reminded of his earlier experience, he kept his blaster with him at all times and he did not try to speak with her, but rather watched her as she skittered around the empty corridors. He also slept with his door locked and N4 keeping a constant link with him about the movements of the Twilek.

In the droning silence of an artificial night, after Saz had long since turned the power down and locked himself behind the safety of his rusted doors, a silent figure was moving through the hangar. Confident of his scheduled movements, Aveyla was making her move to relieve herself of her captor and continue her search for her beloved Sheon, though a small, moaning guilt lingered with her about her imminent actions. The man had been unbelievably kind to her since taking her from Toropu, giving her a warm bed and food while demanding nothing in return or once causing her harm. Had she not been so jaded, she might have trusted him.

A lifetime of slavery and suffering had driven most of the trust from her.

With hardly a sound, she had mounted the ladder next to the black fighter and slipped into the cockpit, her heart a flurry in her chest and her senses highly attuned to her environment. The threat of a turret defense system was still in her mind, though she had never seen any evidence of it, but she felt oddly safe in the ship and she ran her fingers over the controls, her eyes desperately seeking out the right combination that would allow the fighter to come alive and allow her an escape from her prison, despite how hospitable her prison had been.

It was significantly more complex than Xerros's shuttle.

"You are not authorized for flight operations of this vehicle, Aveyla Rom," a voice from the ship blurted and made an audible squeal from her lips fly into the silent hangar. Her hands clasped at her mouth, Aveyla looked around the dark surroundings for her captor, but saw no sign of him.

While she had often heard the man speaking to the ship and a voice had often answered, she never understood the source of that voice until trying to take the ship. "Hello?" she whispered, her eyes moving around the various controls and sleeping displays.

"Submit your inquiry, Aveyla Rom," said the voice from a hidden place amongst the controls.

At once, her suspicions that the voice came from the ship itself were confirmed and she once more glanced about to see if Saz had come. The hangar was still dark. "I want to leave. How do you fly this ship?" she asked frankly, expecting the voice to be a simple computer system within the ship.

"You are not authorized for flight operations of this vehicle, Aveyla Rom," repeated the voice and the skittish Twilek felt a wave of frustration overcome her.

"I should have known it wouldn't be that easy," she hissed under her breath and continued to fumble around the controls, unaware that she could have easily vaporized the hangar with the weapon systems she was carelessly handling.

"I advise you to return to your habitation. Without authorization from the Technician, you will not be able to operate this vessel and if you commit further operations against my systems, I will be forced to disable you," the voice continued.

Aveyla paused, her hands held still as she looked around. "Disable me?" she asked.

"The _Peripheral Muse_ is a Cygnus Spaceworks Imperial Missile Boat-class vessel with advanced weapons systems and security protocols, in addition to capabilities integrated by the Technician. This ship was designed and built using the latest Imperial technologies with the highest levels of secrecy. The tools at my disposal are fully adequate to prevent you from operating it," came the response.

Aveyla felt no reason to doubt the voice and relaxed her hands, slipping them between her legs and appearing much like a child being scolded for taking something that was not theirs. "Do all Imperial warships chat like this?" she asked quietly.

"I am MIME-SD-N4, previously assigned as a security droid at an Imperial facility. Due to variables beyond my programming, I was integrated into this ship by the Technician and now act as partial control systems and fire control. I am unaware of any other vessel in the Imperial Navy that has been outfitted in such a manner, but I have not linked to the main network in some time to verify the terms of your inquiry," N4 said.

"So, this Technician is an Imperial?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"The Technician is no longer active in the Imperial Register," it responded, keeping the details of his departure from the Navy a guarded secret.

Aveyla did not know exactly how to feel about that, for she had always been taught to avoid the Imperials and for good reason, yet this man had seemed kind to her and never given her a reason to hate him. A growing number of questions were building in her mind, though she was not sure how much information she could glean from this unusual companion of his. "What can you tell me about this Technician? Why did he come for me and why is he keeping me here?" she asked.

"I cannot provide you with information I do not possess, Aveyla Rom. The reasoning behind his actions are unknown even to me and my understanding of you organics is limited to anatomical data and the most efficient ways to disable or eliminate you," it answered candidly, which drew a long silence from the woman. Being a security droid, N4 had very specific programming. That programming still served him in the capacity of a warship, but gave it very little leeway in how to interact with Saz or his guest. Every day was a learning experience.

"Do you trust the Technician?" Aveyla found herself asking carelessly, looking around the cockpit after her eyes had lingered on the ID badge hanging from the controls.

"Trust is an organic concept of which I am unable to process. However, the Technician is the only organic that I provide unrestricted access to the systems of this ship, as would I for any conscript he designated. If I were to define this provision in terms of how organics relate, I would find the term 'trust' applicable," N4 explained.

Aveyla found herself dwelling on the words of the droid more than she expected. Trust had not come to her in a long time but the ones she did trust were inconsolably seared into her heart, which was the primary driver of her search for Sheon. In light of that, she found it unnecessary to place her trust in this man despite the fact she felt somewhat safe with him. It was as if there was only enough room in her heart for one person, though even that steadfast rule was betrayed by the fact she still harbored affection for Abe'ian. A confusing jumble of thoughts and emotions were stirring in her as she rested silently in the ship, in the company of a stoic droid philosopher.

Idly, as she sighed and leaned back in the seat, her eyes wandered upwards, where she found a distinctly contrasting black scar on the ceiling of the cockpit. The scorching had not damaged any controls or switches, but had deformed the alloys and marred an otherwise clean cockpit. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over the scar and pursed her lips, noticing how the damage did not seem particularly new or that any attempt was made to repair it. "What's this?" she asked, almost to herself.

N4 took longer than usual to respond. "A prime example of organic behavior I cannot process. The Technician discharged his sidearm and affected superficial damage to the interior surface, yet he has not made efforts to repair it," it explained, as Aveyla continued to run her fingers over it. While it did not seem overly unusual, she was fascinated by the sensation she felt, as if there were some residual feelings left over. "The Technician's behavior and vital signs at the time were atypical and he would not respond to my inquiries, nor has he ever spoken of it since."

Upon feeling the residual feelings in the scar, Aveyla felt compelled to look back to the ID card and the picture of the woman on it. She was obviously someone that the man felt strongly for and she could sense the desperation and grief from the moment that caused the scar. For feelings to focus and linger was exceptional and she could almost imagine what the man had felt when the weapon had discharged.

It frightened her.

With her hands back between her legs, she stared at the scar a bit longer before letting out a deep sigh, resigned to the fact that she was not getting out of her own volition, although that fact did not overwhelm her as expected. "I'm sorry to bother you this late, MM...S...uhm, talking ship. I think I will return to my habitation now," she said solemnly and began to climb out of the cockpit.

"Your presence was of no hindrance to my scheduled tasks, Aveyla Rom. Thank you for your compliance," responded the ship.

Aveyla felt slightly amused by the response as she padded quietly back towards her room, grateful that she did not wake the man. While her escape plan had been futile, she was not defeated by that, while also feeling as if she had gotten to know the man better by proxy. That thought would help her go to sleep as she laid back down, not at all as anxious as she had been at the beginning of her night.

At the other end of the hangar, a silhouette was framed by a faint light, watching the events transpire as a motionless sentry. In one hand was a blaster and the other was lit by the soft glow of a computer interface relaying every word spoken from the confines of the ship. After the woman had long disappeared back into the storage room and the ship had once again gone dormant, the figure stiffly faded from the doorway and disappeared with the killing of the faint light.


End file.
